the worst
by Yugoslavia
Summary: The life and times of Gardenia, Eterna City Gym Leader, just before the abrupt end of her career.
1. Prologue

A small crowd had gathered in the break room, standing around the tiny table.

The man was older, dressed in a tweed suit, large, fish-eyed eyes staring out of thick glasses down at them. He was in the middle of a long pause, taking the time to consider what he was going to say.

"We just finished that big garden clock out there for one reason: Eterna City is a city about the forest. It's what makes it a great city— a great Sinnoh city. The forest is nice, but the part where Eterna City has such a great history— a great culture, featuring the forest, a great, long history of mythos and nature and all of that. We put that big clock out there because that history with the forest and nature is what makes this city great," said the old man, clearing his throat with a loud, gristly sound.

As the man took another long pause, the whole room watched with the same lazed interest in the meeting.

"So every time you see that clock— and believe me, it's hard to miss," continued the old man, "go remind yourself what we're here to do. We're here to remind people— just like that clock— about what makes this city great. Tell them about it. Give them a good battle too. Give them the Eterna difference."

The low, light clapping noise of the entire dozen trainers present echoed in the tiny linoleum-lined break room. It died off shortly.

The old man gestured to the far edge of the room. "See that lady there?" he asked, eyeing every single member of the crowd.

Leaning against the sink counter, arms and legs crossed in boredom, Gardenia tilted her head up, reddish bangs parting as her head rose.

The old man continued. "That's your Gym Leader. Make her proud. If you can't make her proud, then you can't make this city proud."

Gardenia smiled awkwardly.

"That's all I've got. I'll let this lady over here say a few things, but other than that, I'm very pleased whenever I hear about this group. You've got it down," he finished with a smile.

He nodded briefly, taking a step back, then walking slowly to the door.

The space in front of the table was empty for a long moment after the old man had left. The whole group of trainers stared ahead for the whole moment, still waiting.

Gardenia walked to the front of the table, taking a long moment to reach the table. She stared, lost in thought. She leaned forward and hunched over the table. She tilted her head up, staring up at the group.

"You're all doing great!" Gardenia smiled. "Just… Just don't change. Everything you were doing before was great, keep up the work."

She hadn't even finished the sentence. The whole group was opening up into the donut boxes, then breaking away from the table into their own separate conversations.


	2. The Task at Hand

" _Coming up next on Home and Herb, we've got a fantastic panel of herbology experts to talk about flora and fauna, all set deep in the Hoenn jungles. We've also got lots of other breaking news, great gardening stories on some of the new techniques implemented on the Hoenn capital building grounds— It really is shaping up to be a Hoenn episode. Stay tuned for more!"_

* * *

The door sensor beeped loudly, echoing from the other side of the wall and down the empty hall. The lock retracted with a loud metal clanking. Whining, the door swung in softly.

Gardenia let go of the key card, letting it fall and letting the whizzing motor pull it back, haring it satisfyingly snap back to the key ring on the belt loop of her shorts. The cool, clean air of the hall overwhelmed her as she entered, the door whining as it pulled itself back and clicked back into its closed position.

On her keyring, Gardenia pulled a brass key, sliding it into the doorknob of her office. Once she had popped the door in, wedging the toe of her boot between the door and the doorway, she levied the door back, pressing her shoulder against it, clutching the items that filled her arms. She rubbed her elbow along the wall until it caught the switch and turned the lights on. She dropped the contents of her arms on the desk beside her. Arms free, she breathed for a moment, shaking off the strain that had been on her arms.

A jacket clung to her arms and hugged her body, zipped up at about halfway. The jacket was an old, worn bottle green and fit loosely on her, the sleeves coming far over where her fingers ended, the body of the jacket extending down to the middle of her short-covered thighs. Just above the pocket that covered the left breast of the jacket, faded bronze lettering had been stitched in, reading 'Eterna Forest Rangers'. On the right, identically placed above the pocket of her jacket, the same bronze stitching read 'Captain'.

A warmth emanated from the jacket, a breath of hot air crawling up Gardenia's neck, and the smell of pine trees permeated the lining. Sliding the jacket off a sleeve at a time revealed her low-cut black turtleneck. Gardenia squatted, folding her jacket over and stuffing it under the desk. On the wall behind her were several coat hooks, one of them holding her green parka.

* * *

" _I think the biggest news story, if any, is that we're finally seeing an improved berry growth cycle throughout every region."_

" _Except for Unova."_

" _Always. Those guys gotta have everything different, don't they?"_

* * *

The swinging string and tag dangled over the thermos lip, a hastily scribbled herbal tea name adorned it: 'Wormwood'. The steeped tea water was a murky, muddy color, like filthy pond water.

Gardenia's tired eyes bore down into it, her cheeks framing a frown. Her index finger slid into the dark water, coming up with brown water sticking to her fingertip in a thin coating, chunks of herb having seeped through the handmade paper bag and now coating her finger like silt. The frown on Gardenia's face quickly warped into a scowl.

Her nose wrinkled. A billowing cloud of steam lifted from the mug, hitting Gardenia's face, making her face feel hot, wet and sticky. She took a sharp inhale instinctually, filling her nostrils with the tea's aroma. The bags beneath her tired eyes lifted, permeating through her skin. The fruity, bitter, flowery aroma hit her. She stared into it, the aroma hypnotic and pleasing. The frown on her face lifted into something more optimistic.

She walked up onto the main platform at the end of the big flower clock. Gardenia paused a moment, staring down over the hedge maze. The lights hanging from the sky-blue rafters lit the room, providing light down to the trainers who set themselves up in the field.

Gardenia's back arched, sloping down as she bent over and reached down to the toes of her boots, fingers pointed and arms extended. A satisfying crack came from her back as she leaned down. She smiled briefly, quickly rising up and leaning back, her arms extended back up over her head. Grabbing her ankle, she lifted up behind her, popping both her knees and hips. She quickly did the other, pausing midway to extend the popping sound, letting out a sigh. As she held the leg, she twisted her torso side to side, popping them each which way.

As she held the pose, Gardenia paused. She puffed out her cheeks, thinking to herself. A noise wormed its way into her ear.

With her left leg folded up beneath her, left arms holding her leg up, her torso turned to the right, Gardenia's head twisted to the left, looking down over the gym, across the garden clock, over the maze and down towards the entrance. A large crowd had gathered at the doors, a line forming past where she could see.

Gardenia's eyes darted up, the clock above the door showing a good twenty minutes before opening. She froze, continuing to think about it. The bones in her neck finally popped.

A trainer had been setting himself up in the entryway to the hedge maze, doing more or less what Gardenia was doing. He had paused himself, staring up at Gardenia like most of the trainers had been. He was nodding to the door.

Deflating her cheeks, Gardenia looked to the clock one last time. She gave a thumbs up, giving a very fake smile.

* * *

Turtwig, still reeling from the last blow, eyes crossed, teetered on his stubby legs. He let out a squawk before falling over. The blackened spot on his forehead where the last blow had landed was slowly purpling into a bruise.

Gardenia pulled the last Pokeball from her utility belt, clicking the white capture button and pointing it at Turtwig. A red arc of light shot out, vaporizing Turtwig into a brief red image before bringing him into the Pokeball. She clipped the Pokeball back onto the Velcro of her belt. She then reached behind her belt into a pouch, pulling out a badge.

"Well," Gardenia smiled, squatting down, Forest Badge in the palm of her hand, "it looks like you've defeated me! You've got a lot of fight in you, k—"

The trainer, a ten-year-old boy, promptly ran up to Gardenia and grabbed the badge from her hand before she could finish speaking. He then ran back and flopped over, sitting down beside his Pokemon, a Chimchar, sitting and opening up his backpack. As he pulled open his bag, pulling out his badge case, Chimchar waddled over, panting heavily from the battle, sticking his head in the backpack and pulling out a bag of poffins with his teeth.

Gardenia cleared her throat, smiling awkwardly. "You're pretty excited over that badge! Well, hey Kyle, like I was saying, you've got a lot of fight in you, kid. You definitely earned—"

"No he didn't."

Gardenia blinked. Swallowing, she leaned over to the side, looking past where Kyle and his Chimchar were happily eating poffins by the fistful, making eye contact with an older woman; his mother. Gardenia put on her best fake smile.

"Hello! You must be Kyle's mother, right?' asked Gardenia.

The lady crossed her arms, walking up the stairs from where she stood aside from the stage. She walked past Kyle and Chimchar, standing over Gardenia where she squatted.

"What makes you think I'm his mother?" she asked.

Gardenia swallowed, looking up. "I mean, I just guessed—"

"I am, for the record, but I don't want you assuming, okay?" the lady interrupted.

Instead of opening her mouth to reply, Gardenia shut her mouth, nodding.

"I want you to tell me what kind of battle that was." The lady crossed her arms, looking down at Gardenia, occasionally looking over at Kyle.

Gardenia puffed her cheeks in thought, looking at the boy and his Chimchar folding her arms unconsciously. She stood up slowly, lost in thought. Finally, she turned and looked at the lady, giving a closed-mouth smile.

"I think the battle went fine. I think Kyle enjoyed himself quite a bit; he was really good! Did you see how quickly he knocked out my Turtwig?" asked Gardenia, adding an air of excitement to the question.

The lady narrowed her eyes at Gardenia. "Yeah I did see that, actually. A little too quick, I'd say. Wouldn't you say that, too?"

Furrowing her brow, Gardenia frowned. "I get the feeling you think I went a little easier on him? Is that what this is about?"

"Yeah. In fact, don't say 'think', because I know. It's not up for debate. I absolutely know."

"I completely get it. You know, if I saw Kyle here plowing through his whole team with just Chimchar, none of his team, I think I'd be concerned too," Gardenia said, nodding along as she spoke. "Well, part of what I think is going on here— and I see this all the time, believe me— it's that Chimchar's a fire-type. Kyle's Chimchar is an exceptional Chimchar, and when matched up with a tough opponent like Turtwig—"

The lady waved her hands to end Gardenia's thought. "No no no. Your Turtwig is not an exceptional opponent. It'd be a good fight if you put good effort into the fight. You see, you Gym types are so understanding, yeah? So understanding. But you just clock in and clock out, that's all this is to you. This is my kids life, okay?"

Gardenia had mentally checked out, staring down in exhaustion at Kyle and his Chimchar, fighting over the last poffin. Staring up in boredom, Gardenia looked over at the lady.

"Well, listen—"

"No, you listen," the lady huffed. "You're giving my son another go at your challenge, and you'll give him a challenge, alright? We're not going until we get our money's worth."

Gardenia sighed. "Ma'am, this is a public service, it's free."

"My taxpayer dollars."

Pulling her Pokeball off of her utility belt, Gardenia looked over her shoulder at the clock over the door, and then over at the long line of people behind the clock. Tossing her Pokeball, watching it wheel in air, Gardenia caught it, sighing in defeat.

"Alright, Kyle, ready for another round?" sighed Gardenia, walking over to her corner of the battlefield. Behind the stage, Gardenia swapped out the Pokeballs off her utility belt with the ones resting in a healing station.

Kyle looked up at Gardenia, rolling up off his back, poffin caked around his lips. He whined almost as loudly as Chimchar, looking up at his mother. "Mom, I beat her! She said so!" he said, pointing a stubby finger at Gardenia.

"Come on buddy, one more round. You're going to be the only kid with two Forest Badges." Gardenia threw her first Pokeball to the ground, watching it bounce and explode into Cherrim.

* * *

Roserade swung her red and blue bouquet hands, throwing herself forward on her nimble, tiny legs, skidding forward into battle stance. Pointing both her bouquets forward, she cried out, shooting a spray of seeds out at her opponent in a scatter. Her stubby feet skidded backwards, heavy bouquet arms outright and keeping her balanced while keeping her forward.

The opponent's Charizard rose high, flapping his wings with heavy beats, dodging the bullet seed scatter with ease. After a moment of hovering majestically, Charizard lowered himself gracefully onto two legs, rocking the stage floor.

The trainer opposite Gardenia, a girl in her late teens, Tina, watched in boredom as Charizard filled his belly with cool air, looking over at her for confirmation. Tina nodded to him, watching him flop forward onto his belly, claws sinking into the stage.

"Flamethrower, Charizard."

Nostrils flaring, Charizard belched a steady stream of fire, sending it crashing across the stage towards Roserade. Charizards' long craning neck swung in a wide arc, covering the battlefield.

Even Gardenia had to cover herself, the incredible heat wave covering her side of the battlefield. Though her black sleeve offered little protection, Gardenia covered her face, looking down over it towards Roserade every so often, peeking in to see how she was doing when there was so little she could do on the opponent's turn. The spread of flame continued and Gardenia continued to hide herself.

Roserade had sprinted to the far end of the stage, but the wall of flame was catching up to her. When she reached the edge of the stage, she skidded and turned on a peg-like leg, leaping over the thick column of fire. She landed on the other side, bouncing off her peg legs, her twin bouquets offering little to no protection as she landed on her chest. She recovered quickly, pulling herself up, but Charizard had swung his head down in a killer blow. Roserade could only watch as the fire came crashing down on her. At first it was just the white rose that made up her head, but as she ran her whole body quickly caught on fire, forcing her to collapse, flames licking up her body and turning her body into a shriveling black mass as she screamed.

Gardenia pulled out the corresponding Pokeball as she reached for her next Pokeball. Pressing the trigger, she captured Roserade's quickly dying form in a flash of red light, placing it in its strap on her belt.

The thick, bellowing roar that Charizard had given during his flamethrower attack ended has he rose back up onto two legs, looking down proudly at his work. Several quiet claps came from the trainers in line behind the clock, all who had gathered and were staring up at Charizard.

"What do you got left?" asked Tina, smiling wide at Gardenia.

"Oh? Just Turtwig again," Gardenia smiled. She had been caught off guard as she prepared to throw him into battle.

"Ah, I was thinking you were running low," smirked Tina.

"Heh, yeah, I am. Anything to give the crowd more Charizard, right?" Gardenia chuckled.

Gardenia clicked the release, throwing the Pokeball high, sending it spinning. The Pokeball split wide open, shooting out Turtwig in an arc of red energy. Turtwig landed unsteadily on his legs, looking up and eyeing the grinning Charizard. Gasping, Turtwig looked back at Gardenia, halfway between wondering what was going on and what the next move was. He was already in shabby condition, burnt in several places, his eyelids beginning to swell from a rock-type attack earlier.

"Poor guy, about to get his ass kicked," Tina chuckled. "Seriously, do you always do this to him?"

Nodding slowly, gritting her teeth, Gardenia gave a fake smile. "It's all part of the job."

"Heh, yeah, can't imagine how fun it is getting your ass kicked all day by kids."

Gardenia opened her mouth, about to give a command. She was cut off.

"Ass kicked all day, spending the time waiting, waiting for the battle that'll make things worthwhile. Make it all make sense. Bring things into perspective. Show you what really made you want this job in the first place, huh? That kid who reminds you of a younger self?"

"Turtwig, give him grass knot."


	3. The Starly Face-Up

The rest of the ham sandwich was pinched between Gardenia's fingers. Opening wide, she pressed the rest of it into her mouth with her thumb, chewing slowly, wiping the remaining crumbs around her mouth away with her palms. She finished chewing, downing it with a bit of soda.

* * *

 _"I don't know, is there really much more to talk about at this point?"_

 _"We missed the big announcement, the sales figures for Joanna's Garden Emporium came out for this quarter. They're looking up alright."_

 _"Really? I didn't think they could top last quarter for awhile."_

 _"Yep! Oran Berry sales aren't going down anytime soon for them, I don't think."_

* * *

As Gardenia took another long swig of her soda, she watched the clock hand slowly swing towards her, a young guy standing in the center where the hands met. She looked up at the clock. Three minutes past when she was supposed to start again.

Gardenia quickly wiped her hands with a napkin, balling it up and throwing it into the area behind the stage where her stuff was. She kneeled down and grabbed the Pokeballs from her healing station, holstering them on her belt. She pressed pause on her speakers, halting her show. Lastly, she grabbed her parka by hood, pulling it up onto the stage and putting it over her black turtleneck, adjusting the part that hid her mid-section.

The young guy walked slowly, awkwardly over the long clock hand to Gardenia. His hoodie was thick and dirty, covering all of his body. With the hoodie and his jeans he looked extremely overheated. His face was bright red and acne covered, a tiny pair of gray eyes staring out beneath his glasses. His dark hair was in misshapen, poorly cut.

Gardenia walked to the center of the stage to meet the young guy. Putting on a smile, she put her hand out to him.

"Thanks for waiting! My name is Gardenia, I'm the Eterna City Gym Leader, and I specialize in grass-type," said Gardenia, continuing to hold her hand out to him.

The guy smiled awkwardly, looking down at the ground.

After a moment, Gardenia smile only faltered slightly. She put her hand away, folding it away behind her. She looked down, wondering if there was something off about her boots, shuffling back slightly. After a moment, Gardenia cleared her throat.

"Can I get your name?" she asked.

"Justin."

"Well, Justin, it's very nice to meet you," Gardenia smiled. "This should be your second gym challenge? Are you excited or nervous at all?"

"Mm."

Gardenia's mouth hung open slightly, prepared to respond but she realized there was nothing to respond to. Instead of addressing it, Gardenia just closed her mouth into an awkward smile, stepping back and away.

"Alright Justin, let's go ahead and head into our corners? I'm ready to battle when you are."

Justin quickly turned, sharply and jerkily, speed-walking to the very edge of the stage. His front hoodie pockets were clearly full and bulging with Pokeballs. He reached into them, spilling out a few onto the floor to get one. He didn't pick them up.

Watching wide-eyed, Gardenia just continued to smile, pulling out her first Pokeball as well. She threw the Pokeball down, letting it expand and Turtwig appear from the flash of light. The Pokeball bounced back, arcing over to the side. Gardenia quickly leapt to the side after the Pokeball, catching it in her hand.

Justin's Pokeball flew limply from his arm, landing on the ground and splitting. A Starly appeared.

"You have the first move!" Gardenia announced.

Justin cleared his throat, taking a moment before turning with a step to face Starly. "Use Leer."

Starly watched the stage, head darting from side to side to look with his beady eyes, every so often nuzzling under his wings. He turned slightly, looking around, starting to wander.

"Justin, you need to be a bit louder!" Gardenia smiled. "You're doing great! Great choice of Pokemon!"

Justin cleared his throat again. "Use Leer!" he shouted, voice cracking.

Starly let out a high-pitched screech at Turtwig.

Turtwig closed an eye, cringing at the sound. After a moment of silence, he opened his eye, turning and looking at Gardenia, both meeting with skeptical looks.

"Alright Turtwig, tackle!"

Turtwig quickly ran towards the Starly, little legs working quickly to cover the long expanse of the stage. When he reached Starly, he hesitated for a moment, waiting for Starly to make a move. When Starly didn't do anything, Turtwig barreled head on, expecting resistance. His head reared low and knocked Starly onto his back. He then pounced on Starly, crushing Starly with force beneath the hard shell of his belly. Starly screeched and whined, Turtwig squawking proudly. When Starly had been subdued enough, Turtwig hopped back up, running towards Gardenia.

Turtwig ran up to Gardenia proudly, smiling ear to ear, the best move he'd pulled off all day. He ran up to her leg, nuzzling her calves, and in turn Gardenia gave playful boop to his belly with the toe of her boot.

Gardenia looked up, smiling, pleased with Turtwig as he ran back to his place in the center of their side of the stage. He looked at Starly, who had only barely gotten up on his feet. Justin looked down at Starly, almost dumbstruck.

"Justin, your turn!" Gardenia called out, an almost singsong tone to her voice.

Justin continued to stare down at Starly, still dumbstruck. After a few moments, he reached under his hoodie, wrestling with something.

Squinting, Gardenia noticed something slightly off about Justin's hoodie. Even though he had dumped most of his Pokeballs onto the stage floor, the hoodie still seemed to bulge uncomfortably. When he reached under it, Justin was trying to pull something out with great difficulty, almost grunting as he did so. Finally, he stretched his hoodie out far enough, he released a full bag that had been tucked under his hoodie. Gardenia tilted her head to the side, watching curiously as the grocery bag hit the ground with a glass clinking sound coming from it. When Justin reached into it, Gardenia gasped loudly.

The bag was full of potions.

Justin pulled the potion out of it, quickly running up to Starly, squatting down and injecting the potion into Starly. Moments later, the Starly who looked like he wasn't doing too good was looking just as healthy as when he had started moments ago. Justin ran back to the edge of the stage, turning around.

Raising an eyebrow, Gardenia looked down at Turtwig, who was also looking back up at Gardenia. She rubbed her face in thought, puffing up her cheeks like she had so many times today.

"Alright Turtwig, go ahead and use tackle again," said Gardenia, a hint of skepticism in her voice.

Turtwig ran at full bore, hurtling towards Starly in a sprint. He skidded on his legs, headbutting Starly and launching the bird Pokemon aimlessly over the stage.

Justin watched, and almost reactively, reached into his bag for another potion. He launched himself over the stage, reaching down and scrambling over to Starly.

Gardenia put her head into both hands.

* * *

"Al-right," Gardenia sighed, looking tiredly up at the clock. The battle had gone on for an hour. A large line had formed behind the clock, people getting anxious at the battle as it had dragged on. Looking down, Gardenia eyed the last Starly that had landed on the gym floor, the sixth in a party of all Starly, lying unconscious, officially ending the battle.

Justin was shivering. He was both embarrassed and shocked that his strategy had not paid off. His face was pale, lip quivering, looking between his empty bag of potions and the Pokeballs stacked beside him, all fainted.

"Justin, I'm sorry buddy, but it looks like you've failed the Eterna City gym challenge. I'm afraid you'll have to try again another time," said Gardenia, trying to sound as earnest as possible.

Pokeballs and empty potion bottles scattered across the stage, Justin slowly walked across the stage, walking to the line in the center, away from the exit stairs.

Taking a fearful breath, Gardenia quickly walked over to Justin, putting a hand on his shoulder. As Justin had hung his head low, Gardenia could tell he was on the verge of tears. She started to steer him, turning him around and walking to the stairs.

"I— I wasted everyone's time… Oh god…" Justin sputtered, eyes wide open, lip quivering wildly.

Gardenia rubbed his shoulder gently, feeling his whole body shiver. "It's okay buddy, this is a hard gym. You had a good idea for a strategy, it's okay to have it not always work the first time. That's the challenge, really. You can always try again, there's no shame in that."

"But... Oh god, oh god… Everyone's time…"

Gardenia had left Justin's side, quickly running over and squatting down to the stage floor, quickly piling all of Justin's Pokeballs and potions into the bag. Once gathered, she stood up, handing it to Justin.

"Listen, you did great! You tried really hard, you should be proud of it. Just get yourself to a Pokemon Center and it'll be like none of this happened! All it means is you should just give your Pokemon a little more love and care, train them up so that they're a little stronger—" Gardenia faked a gasp, stopping in her tracks, putting a hand on Justin's shoulder. "Wait, think of it! Imagine, a whole team of Staravia! You'd be wiping the competition off the stage floor. It'd be a spectacular! You're so close!"

Justin stopped in his tracks, looking at Gardenia. His body no longer shivered.

"You really mean it?"

Gardenia smacked him on the shoulder lightly. "Yep! You're really close. You've got something in there," said Gardenia, pointing to his heart. "You've got some serious fight. Just get a little stronger and try again, okay?"

Smiling, Gardenia had been looking to his chest, where she had been pointing. When she looked up, Justin was looking down at her, blushing heavily. Her smile faltered.

Justin's arms quickly wrapped around her and pulled her into a tight hug.

"I like you," Justin whispered softly.

Gardenia's eyes widened. Justin's shivering had returned, accompanied with his heavy heartbeats and the worst stench Gardenia had ever smelled. She stifled a shriek, trying to pull away. Fighting it made him hug even tighter, feeling her spine crack like it had this morning.

"Grrk—Dammit!"


	4. Red Flags

Gardenia sat, huddled by the window, knees tucked under her arms and a blanket. Her head rested on her knees, buried up to her nose in the felt. A pillow was pinched between her back and the wall, only supported by her lower back as she leaned forward. Her eyes were affixed to the empty space in front of her on the couch.

Her eyes darted up to the window. The outside was almost a pure, muted blue, as overcast clouds masked a sunset with a deep blue haze. Raindrops streamed down the window, tapping on the window every so often. The wind lightly knocked the glass and the branched outside.

Beside Gardenia, her white thermos rested with a plate atop it. She removed the plate, trapped steam billowing up all at once and more steam trails following. She rested the plate beside a napkin with a spoon atop it, several small plastic creamer pods and a few packets of sugar. Opening each of the packets and pods, she dumped them into the tea one at a time, resting the remains on the plate. The spoon then mixed them all together into a brightly cream colored mixture. By the string, Gardenia lifted and removed the tea bag, setting it on the plate.

* * *

" _I don't know how seriously we should take this next story; apparently, officials in Floaroma Town witnessed quite a bit of strange activity— a large group of young men and women gathered in the town, harassing the townsfolk, all dressed as spacemen! Now, just when you thought this story didn't get any stranger, get this: officials report that they held up the Valley Windworks. Seriously. They held up the scientists in there for several days, in fact, trying to steal… Well… They don't know!"_

" _There are a couple of red flags in this story, and I think the biggest one is that they needed to hold up these scientists."_

" _Not that they were spacemen? Ha ha!"_

" _No no, it's just that if you needed to steal something, you'd need to be pretty quick. You don't need several days to coerce someone."_

" _Well, whoever these thugs are, they're called Team Galactic, and you should stay away. I mean, they sound pretty goofy on the surface, but let's just avoid any confrontation. Just remember, 'Team Galactic' is the name. Anyway, we're getting away from garden talk, just wanted to let people know, since a lot of our listeners are from there—"_

* * *

Gardenia continued to stare, looking at where the teabag had soaked up all the sugar packets into a bright red color. She ignored her tea.

Sighing, Gardenia untucked her legs from the blanket, standing up. She leaned down to the far corner of the coffee table where the portable radio rested, pressing the pause button. When she took a moment to pause and think about the radio, she scowled, rewinding the tape about twenty minutes.

"Well, hopefully I'll pay attention tomorrow," Gardenia sighed under her breath.

The old man blew a steady stream of smoke out in front of him, pulling the cigarette from his lips and looking down at it. Though his gaze towards the cigarette was loving, the thick glasses made his eyes seemed warped and inhuman. He took the cigarette and held it upright, looking at the heaped ash at the tip.

"God, if people saw me doing this," the old man began, raising his eyes from the cigarette and across the table, mouth hung open slightly as he paused for effect, "they'd have my head."

Gardenia just smiled, resting her arms on the table and lacing her fingers together. "Oh please. Smoking may be old-fashioned, but it's not an uncommon guilty pleasure. Besides, I've been known to use a few herbs myself. Most do in this town. Most people get it's just as bad," said Gardenia, chuckling to herself.

"I'm serious!" said the old man. He slid the crystal ashtray closer to him, taking the cigarette and mashing it down into the base of it, turning it into a smoldering pile of ash and paper.

Sliding away the ashtray, the old man, rested his glasses down on the table top, rubbing his eyes. Without glasses his eyes were a brilliant blue, staring down at the menu briefly, before sliding that away as well. He leaned forward, placing both elbows on the table top, hands curled together in a fist he rested beneath his nose.

"You know you give the same speech every time we have one of these," said Gardenia, smiling lightly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked the old man, looking up to her after a moment and furrowing his brow.

"You know… We meet in the same diner… You have your monthly cigarette—"

The old man leaned in. "I have it because it's a special occasion," he said. "I used to, and I don't any more. Do you know how much I save when I just buy a pack a year?" The old man pointed his finger at her. "Don't you dare think I'm picking up the habit again."

Gardenia raised an eyebrow. She pulled up her coffee mug, holding it with two hands, sipping lightly, looking off to the side.

The old man's mouth hung slightly open, waiting to give a response. Instead, he chuckled, folding his arms together on the edge of the table, smiling. With one hand, he lightly spun the ashtray side to side, knocking it against the salt and pepper.

When the waitress appeared out of the corner of the man's eye, he didn't wait for her to speak.

"Ah! Yes, I'll have the hash brown and eggs, fried. Get me a bowl of oatmeal too, and—" he raised his mug by the rim, "—another one of these, black."

Twisting her lips, the waitress wrote in her pen pad quickly, then flashing her eyes to Gardenia.

Swallowing, Gardenia smiled at the waitress, picking up her menu and handing it off to her. "I'll take the grapefruit and toast, I think they've got that in Castelia City," she said, eyeing the diner's logo on the waitress's apron.

Nodding, the waitress took both menus, and reluctantly took the old man's cup.

"We need to talk about your performance," said the old man, turning his attention to Gardenia.

Gardenia continued to stared down into her coffee, both hands cupping it though it rested on the table top. She looked up, squinting as the bright morning sun came through the blinds. "What about it, Consular?"

The old man dropped a file folder on the table, Gardenia's full legal name scrawled on the top tab. The file folder seemed slim, though this month it seemed a little thicker than usual.

"Look, these usually run about the same way. 'Good, but could be better'. Nothing you haven't seen before."

Gardenia looked slightly taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"I mean— I'm asking," the old man corrected himself, sitting forward slightly, adjusting his seated posture, "I'm asking what you're expecting to come of this."

Taking a long sip of her coffee, Gardenia paused, setting the mug down. She leaned forward, putting her head in her hand while another hand traced the rim of the mug with her fingers. She rustled her hair as she thought about it.

"Shit Gardenia, listen," started the old man. He hesitated when he saw Gardenia flinch. "Just listen. I do these performance reviews—" the old man paused for effect, waving his hand in a circle as he struggled for the words,"—all the time. Constantly. And you know what? They're exactly the same. Every time. I shit you not. To think—I thought—that as a consular, I'd get a little more clout in this region. Just a little. I actually did, but that's all I got. I discovered that, beyond—well, clout—there's actually a hell of a lot more to life than clout. Adventure, fantasy, peril, thrill, excitement! A whole life filled with things completely different from 'clout'."

Gardenia narrowed her eyes. "Yeah…"

"So, just cut me a break," said the old man. From inside the same tweed jacket he had worn a few days earlier, he pulled out a beaten pack of cigarettes. The image of Seviper had been scribbled out with marker. He stuffed a cigarette between his lips, pulling out a lighter from the opposite pocket in the same jacket. Halfway through trying to light the lighter, the old man, pulled the cigarette from his fingers, pinching it between his front fingers, looking down at it and the lighter.

Pensively, Gardenia nodded. She had been so intently focused on the old man's thought that she hadn't even noticed the cigarette and lighter. She was staring off to the side, down past the table at the barstools on the wall opposite the one their table was on. Her eyes quickly darted over, and back up to the old man.

"So just cut me a break. Just… Help me keep my job fresh. Let me know what you're hoping to hear. It kinda becomes like my job review in a sense, but hey, I just want to know. After all, this is a discussion, not my thoughts with little to no context. Like I said," the old man said, finally getting the lighter to click in his hand, a steady flame coming from the emitter, "I don't want this job to be the same shit everyday."

"I guess…" said Gardenia, in thought, tucking her hands beneath her thighs as she leaned forward, "What I'd like to hear is that I'm doing better than I have been."

The cigarette tip lit up, turning the end a searing red. The old man slid the filter between his lips, squeezing his eyelids shut as he took a deep inhale, his whole face blocked out in the stream of white smoke he blew out.

The old man leaned forward, pulling the cigarette from his mouth. His mouth hung open, blowing smoke from both his mouth and his nostrils. He squinted out of his eyes at Gardenia. "And do you think that's how you did this month?" he asked.

Gardenia opened her mouth to reply. Nothing came out.

* * *

" _I mean, I don't think this news is really anything to get worked up about. It just seemed like the natural course of things."_

" _Reagan flowers going extinct isn't the natural course of things. It's—It's—It's like saying that if—Oh! So and so a character shouldn't have committed adultery, but with the way his marriage was going there's not much to be said about it other than 'it was the natural course of things'. That's a terrible outlook and it always will be—because—because there always is something that could have been done, and that's a conversation nobody wanted to have in more way than one. Now—nobody wants to have that conversation, because it's the worst possible conversation to have—after the fact. I can't think of a single excuse that makes sense and doesn't make us feel dirty accepting. There was always something that we could've done."_

" _Heh heh. So you're saying—"_

" _No jokes about this. It's just too easy. It's a clever analogy and I'm glad to hear it. Just—Just stop."_

" _Ha ha!"_

* * *

In the dark of her house, Gardenia lifted her leg, her knee lifting as her foot folded in. Taking one last sip of the beverage in her hand, Gardenia spread both of her arms like wings, holding them high and out to the side. Her torso twisted, her free hand lowering and her hand posed like some martial arts pose. She held the pose for as long as she could, slowly reaching around her arm with the drink in hand, taking a long sip, and then pulling it back away. A milk mustache appeared on her lips, one that she quickly licked away.

* * *

" _But really, in all reality, what could've we done to save this? We're talking about it like it's a marriage, but in reality, wasn't it just a fling? What if it just didn't work out? What if it wasn't meant to be? There are plenty of pieces to this that—well, at least to me—really don't seem to make it entirely our fault. Hell, ever seen a pack of Vulpix mow down a field of Reagan flowers? Do you want to pin this one on 'Team Galactic' as well? I just don't think we're asking the big questions."_

" _What questions?"_

" _Why didn't we save the flower in the first place? That's the part I can't get over. Somebody at the conservatorium sat himself or herself down, looked at the budget, and said that 'we probably don't need to warn people about this'. 'There's no cause for alarm'. 'No one will be really affected by this'. Don't you think?"_

* * *

Gardenia squatted on one leg, immediately popping up when she struggled to maintain her balance. Lightly, she kicked her bent leg up, mouthing a 'Hi-yah'.

Sighing, Gardenia put herself back on two feet, lowering her arms, holding her drink in front of her. She stared up at the moon through the window and thought. Every so often, she go back to nursing her glass, sighing to the burning sensation of alcohol in the back of her throat. She set the empty glass on the shelf behind her, fumbling for a glass bottle, not finding it without turning.

Instead of finishing pouring a drink, Gardenia walked over to the treadmill, powering it off. As she walked back from the treadmill, she buried her nose in the strap of her exercise tank top, mentally debating what she found. She walked past the glass on the shelf, grabbing the bathrobe slung over the chair.

* * *

" _I don't think we're asking the right questions here. Seriously!"_


	5. Outage

Gardenia dropped to her knees on the stage, huddling over the Starly. Beside her, a ten-year-old boy also dropped to his knees, also looking down at the Starly.

"I think we need to get this guy to the Pokemon Center. That burn looks pretty serious," said Gardenia, squinting.

The boy looked up at Gardenia, looking up in plain fear. "What—? Oh, yeah, okay…"

One of Starly's wings had draped itself over the torso, blocking Gardenia's view of the burn. She could just barely see a black, charred spot jutting from the side up the neck. Sliding her fingers just underneath the wing, Gardenia felt along the rough, charred feathers and skin, feeling something wet. She immediately pulled her fingers back, wincing in pain; a sharp, burning sensation beneath the skin in a particularly burned place of the torso. Wrapping her hand in her sleeve, Gardenia squinted, seeing blood on her fingertips. As her gaze trailed from her fingers to the kid, she could see the look of horror on his face.

Grimacing, Gardenia stood up, looking across the stage, covering her eyes with a hand from the stage lights. When she spotted a free trainer of the gym out in a part of the maze, she went to whistle with her two fingers, instead hesitating and placing two fingers in her mouth that weren't covered in blood, whistling. She walked to the edge of the stage, squatting at the edge by her shivering Turtwig.

The trainer ran along the edge of the flower clock, stepping up on her tiptoes to see a little better.

"I need a favor. Are you busy?" asked Gardenia, trying to keep her voice low.

"I mean, yeah? What—What's going on?" asked the trainer.

Gardenia pointed to the boy and his Starly on stage. When she turned her head to the trainer, the trainer was already shaking her head.

"I—I don't know about that—"

Groaning, Gardenia shook her head. "I can't, I have trainers to challenge. Swap out with Mable."

"Well—I mean, I don't think the Pokemon Center is open right now."

Gardenia was staring down at Starly, her brow furrowing as she listened to the trainer. Something clicked in her head and she looked over to the trainer, realizing what was off about what she had just said.

"I've never seen a Pokemon Center close… They just don't…" said Gardenia, her inconfidence bleeding through as she continued to think.

"I mean, the power's off, they've locked the doors, no one's left or entered all day—isn't that one a 24-hour Pokemon Center?"

"They're all 24-hour centers…" Gardenia thought aloud. She puffed out her cheeks in confusion, looking out over the gym. A lot of the trainers traveling through the maze had simply stopped, several feet away from the gym's trainers, resting on sections of the hedge walls. Some stared down at their Pokeballs in confusion, others simply put their heads in their hands and wept, or entertained themselves by playing on their Pokedex or reading books, or playing with their Pokemon.

"I've heard of some people making the trek over to Floaroma Town—I mean, that's the closest town without heading over the mountains, or down the cycling road…"

"I'll take care of this… Thank you!" Gardenia said with a cheerful tone, even though her face was far from reflecting that.

Stepping away from the edge of the stage briefly, Gardenia looked down at Turtwig, who looked pale. She stooped down beside Turtwig, reaching down behind the edge of the stage, pulling up a bag and setting it on the stage. From her shorts, she pulled out a pen and then a wadded receipt from lunch earlier in the day. Reaching behind Turtwig and into the bag, Gardenia eyed the quivering stem atop his head, leaves rocking back and forth uncomfortably. She massaged his scalp with his hand briefly, tickling under his neck, then continuing with what she had in her hands.

"Wasn't your fault, buddy," she said quietly, just between where Turtwig could hear her, smiling warmly.

After quickly scribbling out a note on the back of the receipt, she took the two items she took from the bag, two TM disks, one orange tinted and one green tinted, and slid the receipt into the orange tinted TM.

Gardenia stood up, walking quickly over to the boy and his Starly, stooping down beside him. She put a hand on his back, massaging gently.

"Hey listen, I'm sorry we had to cut the battle short today. That was completely my fault and I apologize. I just spoke with one of my trainers here and it looks like the Pokemon Center here is—well—closed…" said Gardenia. She trailed off at the last part, getting an uncomfortable eye contact with the boy. Clearing her throat, she quickly followed up. "So here's what we're going to do—I've got," Gardenia paused for effect, spreading the two TM disks in her hands, "a couple of TMs for you. Now, TMs—do you know what TMs are? Yes? Okay—this one here—this greenish one here is 'Grass Knot'. It's a great move, it's my favorite grass-type move. Now, this reddish one here, this is 'Fire Blast', the one I used on your Starly today. It's a very, very powerful move and I love it. I think you will too."

The boy, blinking several times, reluctantly took the two disks, looking at his reflection in the disks, then looking down at Starly. After a moment, he looked up at Gardenia, who still stooped over, getting a bit closer, feeling her arms reach around him.

"Now, look here," said Gardenia, taking the TM for Fire Blast and flipping it over, placing it back into his hands, the receipt facing up. "There's a bike shop around the corner from here, it's like right next to the Pokemon Center. Give this note to the guy behind the counter in here, he's going to let you borrow a bike. Go ahead and take the cycling road—it dumps you straight away in Oreburgh City. Go to the Pokemon Center there, heal up, and come back. Then you can challenge me for your badge. Sound good?"

"Yes ma'am," he nodded quickly.

Gardenia went to open her mouth, but was cut off by a strange electrical sound all around her; the sound of the power going off. All of the overhead lamps died at once, some flickering briefly. An alarm sounded in the background. Through out the gym, a chorus of confusion went up, muttering voices all commenting at once.

As the kid stared up into the darkness, Gardenia shook his shoulder, smiling reassuringly. "Let's go ahead and get you out of here. I wish you luck, thank you for the battle," said Gardenia, shaking his hand. "Take care!"

Straightening her back, standing up all the way, Gardenia watched as the kid scrambled off stage, following the emergency glow strips that led to the staircase around the clock. Gardenia quickly walked over to Turtwig, who looked like he was about to lose it. His legs shook, his eyes wide and darting from side to side, his little twig atop his head about to shake loose. She whistled shrilly through her fingers, getting Turtwig to attention as she squatted and leaned down over the stage.

She felt along her hips for her Pokeballs, feeling them slotted still on her utility belt and unused from the battle moments earlier. The only thing she grabbed from behind the stage was a thick iron flashlight. She clicked it on, lighting the path in front of her.

Just as she turned to head down behind the stage, Gardenia paused, hearing a voice call after her.

"Wait! Gardenia, wait! Where are you going? What's happening?" asked the trainer from moments before.

"Can you man the fort? I'm a little busy. I'm heading backstage to get the power back on. Everything's fine... Or it will be. Just relax."

As the trainer went to squeak out a response, Gardenia saluted her quickly, looking out over the partially lit gym, watching people outside in the daylight wander aimless and confused, sunlight barely pouring into the gym. She then whistled shrilly again, running down the stairs from the stage platform and down into the hallway below, Turtwig scrambling after her.

* * *

The alarm was much louder backstage. The backstage consisted of one single hallway that ran along the back of the gym, lined with offices on either side, the alarm came from two blinking sirens on the ceiling at either end of the building.

The window from the door at the far end of the building provided ample lighting for the hallway, and Gardenia had powered off the flashlight as she walked to the far, dark end. Behind her, the only other sound beside the wailing alarm came from Turtwig's clopping footsteps as he hesitantly walked behind, trying to follow with a bit of distance. The muttering sounds from the gym were almost inaudible, but the situation hadn't changed at all.

All at once, the alarms stopped, rendering the hallway silent.

Turtwig froze in place, letting out a high-pitched squeal through his beak. His legs started to wobble violently again. He had turned and faced away from Gardenia, his little tail wagging from side to side vigorously in fear in full view of Gardenia. With no idea where the alarm could have possibly ended, his head darted from side to side, looking for danger, until he finally lowered his head low in attempt to hide.

"C'mon fraidy cat," said Gardenia, swallowing hard. An icy chill ran up her back, cheeks puffing up in thought as she stared ahead. She searched the room quickly for anything that might've triggered this, but found nothing.

She was steps away from the office door she had been looking for. She stood right in front of it, a tall wooden door with the drapes pulled over window from behind. A brass tag had been set in the wood just below the window; Electrical and Utility.

The set of keys lifted from Gardenia's pocket, pulled by the lanyard in her hand. Key ring in hand, Gardenia thumbed through until she found a particularly old one. She slid it into the brass doorknob, turning it open with a quick and satisfying click. The door swung open into total darkness, a set of blinds lit at the far corner, but nothing else lighting it. The flashlight in Gardenia's hands clicked on and lit the whole room.

Turtwig waddled in, stepping over pieces of lumber and torn canvas, loose cables and old boxes. He followed his nose, running up to the water heater in the far corner and sniffing at the base, kicking up a large cloud of dust and lint as he did so. He ran away sneezing, heading under a table and into a box while he hid.

Gardenia stepped around the table just in front of the door, watching her footing carefully. Her flashlight shone on the wall just behind the table, bringing a wall of photo frames into view—all the gym leaders that had ever occupied the building in the past thirty years and their team of trainers. She watched in awe temporarily, following the progression with wonder up until the last five years, where there was a gap—her old mentor as the Gym Leader being the last picture. A space beneath was for the last for the past five years of history, and hopefully her first-year tenure would go there.

Beside the photo frames, a tall metal panel had been installed in-line with the wall, the oldest thing in the room. An old page had been glued to the front with information about the contractor and the last safety inspection. Just above the page was a metal latch holding the door closed.

Flipping the latch open, Gardenia shone her light in there, bringing all the plastic switches into view. Old paper inserts lined the switches with brief marker descriptions for their functions, describing individual functions of the gym. Except for the unused sections, everything was on. In the bottom right corner, several switches with red rubber lining were set aside from the rest of the switches, a brass label above them reading 'Source'. The only switch of the red switches on was one labeled 'Main'. Several others had been labeled things but had been scrubbed away or removed, all off. The last switch at the bottom was one labeled 'AUX' in big, switched off as well.

Gardenia went to turn and walk away, but her brow was furrowed in confusion, so she stood in place. She stared at the ground as if to leave but instead continued to think. After a moment, she puffed her cheeks again in thought, looking back up at the switches.

She flipped the red switch labeled 'AUX'. Nothing happened. Nodding appreciatively, Gardenia flipped the switch back to the resting off position.

The table in front of the wall with the frames and the switch box had been getting in the way, and Gardenia had been leaning and reaching over to get to the switches. After staring into the switches, giving herself several moments to think of a solution, she came up with none, instead letting her arm rest on the table. She firmly planted both hands on the table, quickly lifting herself onto the table so that she sat on the edge, wobbling the old table on it's metal legs.

She crossed her arms and legs, looking down at the box beneath the table across from her, the one shivering and making muffled Turtwig noises. Gardenia smiled, chuckling to herself.


	6. Mars' Psychedelic Breakfast, Part 1

There was a pounding on the wall, several feet away from Gardenia. She could hear it louder as it echoed through the hallway, seemingly shaking the walls around her. Finally, with a loud crack, it alerted Gardenia to its presence. She quickly poked her head out of the door and looked, shining her flashlight down the hall.

A wall appeared in the darkness, identical to the smooth white ones that lined the hallway. The wall had started to buckle, a thick spider web crack traveling through the wall with dark black marks, crumbs of drywall and splinters of wood falling through into a pile of rubble.

Gardenia listened carefully, hearing muffled voices outside the wall.

"Again!" a voice shouted from the outside.

Gardenia's head swung around quickly, looking down the hall. The door on the outside had a large iron dumpster moved in front of it. Wide-eyed with shock, Gardenia pulled her head behind the door, shutting it. She quickly ran across the small area of the closet, diving under the table that Turtwig had.

Hearing Gardenia scramble made Turtwig panic, the box wobbling side to side violently. His shrill squawks had turned into screams.

The table atop Gardenia quickly flipped over as she tipped it and forced it down, a barrier between her, Turtwig, and the door. She hugged the box, shushing Turtwig inside while covering herself and Turtwig's box with a folded down cardboard box.

 _ **THOOM!**_

The wall in the hallway smashed in, chunks of drywall, wood and plaster flying everywhere in a white haze. The whole gym shuddered as a large hole cracked open, knocking everything around. Several windows shattered and doors fell, chairs and tables knocked around. Several screams from the main gym echoed down backstage as large parts of the gym were damaged.

The door to the Electrical and Utility room fell off its hinges, crashing down to the floor in front of where Gardenia had braced the table. The glass shattered immediately into a thousand tiny pieces all over the floor. Outside, a chorus of shouts erupted, and footsteps echoed through the hall as a large group of people piled into the backstage hall, running past the empty doorway.

The force of the blast had knocked Gardenia against the wall and sent Turtwig's box sliding into hers. The smell of smoke and old drywall filled her senses, and she covered her mouth to quiet her coughs. She felt sore immediately, trying to get up to her feet, lifting the folded box off of her. She looked above and behind her, continuing to lie down as she watched shadows of people from the newly sunlit room pouring in and down the hallway of the backstage. She went wide-eyed as she saw and heard the crowd of figures entering the gym, running through.

When the noise had died down and the shadows ceased, Gardenia sat herself up quickly, looking over the table. A few more figures moved down after them, seemingly taking up a perimeter in the hall. Gardenia could see them clearly now, their black and white spacesuits shimmering in the overcast sunlight, their pale skin, their matching blue bowl cuts and blue eyes, all almost looking identical. A golden 'G' emblazoned just below their collar. They all stood along the walls, several feet apart, a Pokeball or two strapped to their black holsters like weapons. After a few moments of what looked like securing the perimeter, they'd run down the hall and take up new positions.

When Gardenia saw that they had moved on, she hopped over the table. She reached around very briefly with her leg and tapped the box that Turtwig hid in with the toe of her boot, getting his attention.

"Hurry now," she whispered.

She removed a Pokeball from her belt, walking carefully to the doorway. She then tossed the Pokeball, landing it squarely against the opposite hallway wall, ricocheting down into the center of the hall floor before opening up and expanding the bright red image into Roserade.

After catching the Pokeball, Gardenia slid behind the doorway, watching Roserade as she stood there, examining her surroundings. Roserade briefly looked up at something, the shadow of something massive quickly encompassing her space on the floor, red eyes going wide as something massive and furry pounced upon her, sinking it's teeth into her and muffling Roserade's scream.

Gardenia whistled to Turtwig just behind her, sprinting into the hall and Turtwig following. A massive Purugly had pounced down upon Roserade, her teeth tearing into the small flower Pokemon, shreds of flower petals and leaves falling to the floor. Gardenia pulled the Pokeball that had returned to her and retrieved Roserade with a bright red laser arc, pocketing the Pokeball on her belt and signaling to Turtwig who ran after her.

"Grass Knot, Turtwig!" Gardenia commanded.

Turtwig leapt up over Purugly, catching her feline eye. He skidded towards the wall, eyes locked on Purugly's before squawking out a battle cry. He planted a stubby foot down into the linoleum, cracking the tiled section just below Purugly's foot and shooting up a thick tangled knot of grass around Purugly's forepaw.

Purugly roared, lifting her paw to strike down on Turtwig but found the trunk-like leg immobilized. She tripped over her own paws, crashing into the wall. Gardenia and Turtwig leapt away, watching the wall shudder as Purugly's massive body rolled off the wall, claws cutting itself free of the grass knot.

She reared up to her full height on all fours, yellow eyes darting down to Turtwig and a growl building deep within her. Before going to strike, she halted and raised her ears. She then backed away slowly, slinking into the shadows of the Electrical and Utility room that Gardenia and Turtwig had been hiding in, blocking the entrance. She then lowered herself, purring, watching the two, waiting to strike at any moment.

Gardenia caught her breath, her heart pounding out of her chest. She took a sharp inhale through her nostrils and swallowed her fear. Though she hadn't broken a sweat, she was only starting to realize how afraid she had become, her eyes darting from side to side and scanning the hall as she thought of her next move. She remained weary of Purugly, who had inexplicably and near randomly snuck off into the shadows after a fairly weak blow. Another shuddering breath later, she backpedaled slowly from the scene, walking down the hall, away from the damage, only briefly checking over her shoulder for anything behind her before checking back at Purugly and the gaping hole in the wall. Seeing that Turtwig hadn't moved, still frozen in place in front of where he had attacked, eyes locked on Purugly, Gardenia stooped down, patting her leg through her shorts with a muffled clap. She shooed him towards her under her breath, getting an immediate reaction as he jumped and came barreling after her.

On the other side of the wall that had been opened up, the sound of crunching footsteps came. The outside had turned silent after all of the grunts passed through and whatever was knocking the building had ended. Several of the rocks seemed to kick away from the side as something approached the hole. The crunching got louder, sounding more like distinct footsteps crunching newly formed gravel as a shadow approached the hole.

A dark figure covered the entrance of the hole, a long shadow covering the length of the hall. The light from the outside was blinding compared to the dark of the hall, and the figure remained a dark silhouette, only bearing distinctly womanly features and a long, rigid skirt. Her simple, calculated movements caught light on her reflective, plastic uniform. A tall, shadowy, red spike of hair jutted from her head. She reached up through the hole in the wall and held it for stability as she stepped over the ledge and entered the hall. A cloud of dust kicked up as she walked through the rubble and entered the lower light.

"Hey, you!" the woman said, stopping in the hall, watching Gardenia. "What's keeping you around? Don't leave."

Gardenia watched up in shock, unsure of what to say. She held her ground, only looking down to Turtwig as he scrambled around and hid behind Gardenia's legs, shivering. She slid her stance slightly open to cover Turtwig and leaned herself against the wall.

The woman was watching Turtwig as well, smiling, eyes darting back up to Gardenia. She turned on a heel, her hands curled in fists beside her hips, arms bouncing in and out in thought. She dipped down on her legs and squatted beside Purugly, running her hands over the soft tufts of hair on the Pokemon's head, petting softly. A deep, rumbling purr emanated from the Electrical and Utility room where Purugly's body took up the whole entrance.

"Most people wouldn't want to stick around if they just saw a wall blow up. Most wouldn't want to stay around if they saw a whole armada of grunts all running in and invading a place. I'd run and turn tail, and I'm running this operation," the woman chuckled. She turned her head over to Gardenia, tilting it to the side curiously and grinning ear to ear. "That tells me you're different, to say the least."

Gardenia watched tentatively, watching the woman stand up and walk very close to her, beyond a personal space distance. Her eyes dipped down to avoid eye contact, the blood red irises of the woman made Gardenia feel a twinge of pain in her own eyes. She instead watched the catty smile the woman wore, making her feel even more uncomfortable. When she looked even further down, Gardenia saw the golden Galactic 'G' emblazoned just below her collarbone. The sight made Gardenia swallow hard. Lifting her eyes back to Gardenia, she made eye contact again with the eerie pair of eyes, as they hadn't so much as looked away, or the smile having changed at all.

"My name is Mars. I'm a Commander with Team Galactic, the group that just took over your gym, gym leader."

Swallowing again, Gardenia gave a quick smile, matching Mars'. "Gym leader?" she said, hiding her true feelings. "Is that a guess?"

Mars' smile grew. She then spun on the heel of her boot again, walking away towards Purugly at the entrance to the Electrical and Utility room with a quick pace. A high-pitched, whiny laugh came from her as she approached the doorway, turning quickly again to face Gardenia.

"It's a guess, yeah, but am I right? It's so plainly obvious you call the shots here. I didn't need to put a face to a name, did I?" asked Mars.

She knocked on the wall beside the door, kicking slightly with her heels in an organized fashion. At her knocking, Purugly rose, her massive furry body slinking out of the door in front of Mars.

"I've never been to this gym, I haven't been in Eterna City long and I don't intend to. The name they had given me, 'Gardelini' or something, didn't match up with the listing, so I figured the gym leader, you, were new."

"Gardenia," corrected Gardenia quickly.

Mars waved her hand. From between where her skirt attached to the main torso piece of her uniform, Mars' fingers slid into the elastic band. She slipped out a silver hip flask, quickly undoing the screw with one hand and bringing the silver flask up to her lips with the other. She swallowed hard, shuddering. "Whatever. Anywho—just look at you! You're the only one even back here, and this is the only place in the whole building of any central importance." Taking another sip, Mars spread her arms for effect. "Just look at this place; it's empty! There's one person back here, and it's you! The only person whose job is on the line, the only person who has to explain to someone what happened… The only person I need to talk to today…"

"I get the feeling there isn't going to be a whole lot to discuss…" Gardenia folded her arms, looking down.

As she went to take another drink from her hip flask, Mars scowled, tossing the thing to the ground with a loud metal clang. Water ran out of the flask onto the floor and mixed with the debris. Mars stepped forward slowly, taking a deep breath.

"What's your mission? Why are you here?" asked Gardenia.

Grinning, Mars stepped closer. "I can't tell you, silly," she said. "That's a secret, and it will stay that way. What I do need to do is take control of your gym, and I need you to give it to me."

"I… Can't do that?" Gardenia hesitated.

"Of course you can't. I understand that, remember? And that's perfectly fine, there's nothing to worry about there, and I don't think you'll have to sacrifice anything either. I still think you'll give your keys over to me," said Mars.

Gardenia stared up at Mars.

"See, you have to understand—I'm really not that good at being evil. There's a certain kind of person that 'being evil' requires and that's just not me. I'm not even that good of a leader. I'm just Mars, you see? Jupiter is the one who loves being evil. For me it's just an act, and hopefully it always will be. For today, that's what I have to do. I have to act, and I really hate to do this, but I need you to act too."

"Meeting you halfway isn't what this is about, though, right. I—I just… You can't drag me into your own mess just because it's hard for you. You made your decision to work for the bad guys, that's not my problem, that's yours," said Gardenia.

Chuckling to herself, Mars leaned herself on the wall beside Gardenia. She rested her arm on the wall and rested her head on her arm, her arm reaching skyward as it rested, gently knocking the wall before resting over her head. Mars looked down at Turtwig's little eye poking out between Gardenia's legs, smiling and then looking down at her polished white boots.

"I don't know that that's entirely true. I think it's our problem," said Mars.

"It's not, absolutely not," said Gardenia. "That's an unfair justification for the bad guys to continue doing bad things."

Mars shut her eyes, cringing slightly. "You keep saying 'bad guys', and I think that's unfair. You don't even know what we're here for."

"Then tell me! What exactly is your purpose barging into my gym? What is your mission?" asked Gardenia, furrowing her brow.

"I can't tell you that," Mars rolled her eyes. "It's not about the mission, the mission is completely off-topic—"

"It's not!" Gardenia's eyes flared. "You barging in here is the whole problem! It's the whole—"

Mars' free hand curled into a fist, suddenly slamming into the wall at full force, the space between herself and Gardenia shuddering and cracking. Where her fist had landed a cloud of drywall kicked up as debris fell from the area. Slowly, she pulled her fist from the crater, shaking loose dust and debris from around it, shaking off the white dust that had coated the hand. Cuts had formed in several places on her knuckles, already showing signs of fresh blood starting to ooze. She gazed at her hand, curling and extending her slender fingers as more drywall crumbles fell from between. Aside from a few cuts, her hand was completely free of any damage.

All the breath in Gardenia's lungs had escaped. Her face had turned pale, eyes locked in on the baseball-sized crater in the wall inches from her head. She then looked to Mars' hand, half-expecting serious injury but surprised to see none. The look on Mars' face shocked her even worse.

The brief flash of anger in Mars' eyes ceased, replaced with a deadness as she stared at her hand. The fingers that had flexed moments before went limp as the hand relaxed. Smiling in satisfaction, Mars looked up at Gardenia.

"It's our problem, because you have a problem with it, and I have a problem with that," said Mars.

Gardenia just continued to stare in shock, her eyes tracking down. She wasn't staring at anything.

Mars stepped a bit closer, pointing a finger at Gardenia's chest, careful in her movements to not cause her to flinch. The wide, catty grin returned. "You really don't know what to expect, do you? That's your deal. There's a routine, there's a flow. This doesn't have one! Incredible, for someone who teaches confrontation, who teaches people to fight harder and stronger, you don't have any fight in you! You sit in a room, all day, getting beaten by kids… You probably haven't had a fight outside in years." Mars finished her thought off with a chuckle, clearly enjoying herself.

Gardenia was visibly shaking by this point. Her whole face had gone red, her eyes locked in and staring at Mars. She could feel a vein about to burst, grateful her bangs covered her forehead.

"You want a fight? Is this what this is all about?" Gardenia's voice quivered, her eyes locked on Mars'.

At Gardenia's response, Mars' smile went wider.


	7. Mars' Psychedelic Breakfast, Part 2

Hey guys! Our beloved Yugoslavia is going through intense surgery and will have to stay hospitalized this whole week, so he asked for me to post for him!  
Please consider leaving him some nice messages, I'm sure it'll make him happy once he gets back! Send him your best wishes, and please enjoy this new chapter~!  
(Yu, you can edit this out once you get back xD)

* * *

Mars strode from side to side in the hallway, kicking up gravel with wide swings of her leg as she did so. Her boots slammed down, making loud clacking sounds on the linoleum as she walked with dramatic gravitas.

Behind her, Purugly stood like a statue. Just in front of her paws thick claw marks had carved their way into the linoleum during her training exercise, tearing into it about an inch deep. The only thing moving was her cavernous chest, pumping full of breath and life, a deep, bass-filled groan of her breath filled the hall like a revving engine.

Turtwig had lost the will to live. His face had turned pale, his pupils shrunk down to pinpricks. He squeaked with fear, the space where his neck should have been pulsing with the quick intake of air.

Leaning against the wall, Gardenia had folded her hands behind her, leaning forward and looking down at the toes of her boots. She closed her eyes, taking a slow, deep breath through her nostrils, calming her nerves. Her face had turned from the flaming shade of red it had been moments earlier to a light shade of pink, like all the blood was slowly draining out of her and onto the floor. Her eyes focused ahead until she could think clearly about the situation she was in. She listened carefully, the only sound being Turtwig's rapid-fire breathing and Mars' dramatic clacking boots.

" _Gardenia_ , I don't have all day," Mars grinned.

"Turtwig, Grass Knot, now," Gardenia seethed, staring down Mars' dramatics.

Just as moments before, the linoleum split open beneath Purugly, shooting away into a thousand tiny pieces, exposing a patch of earth deep down beneath the foundation, a crack in the concrete. Thick vines shot up from the earth and tangled themselves around one of Purugly's thick, stump-like legs. Purugly, who had remembered the attack from earlier, moved unsteadily, stepping away from weakening portions of the ground, hearing the ground crack beneath her. When she felt the vines grip her, she hadn't escaped in time, panicking and trying to scramble back. She fell to the ground immediately, rolling onto her side as her own paws went out beneath her. The whole ground shuddered, shaking as she groaned.

Mars didn't take the attack seriously. She stepped forward in a slow, rocking step, hopping onto a heel and kicking out her leg and spinning in place like a ballerina. She hopped forward onto her other leg, swinging her leg back. She then swung her raised leg with full force into Purugly's stomach, eliciting a brutal grunt. Mars stepped away, feeling Purugly get to her feet and moving away from where the massive Pokemon was lifting herself.

"What happened there? Too slow? Get up!" she barked, watching Purugly struggle to rise get steady on all fours. "That little punk is a fourth your size, fatty! Get up and kick his ass!"

Purugly ignored Mars, flexing her shoulders and stretching her spine, shaking off the pain. Her yellow eyes thinned, glowing and glaring down at Turtwig, a thick snort making it's way through her button nose, flaring her whiskers.

"Alright," Mars snorted. "Earthquake!"

Gardenia gave a look down at Turtwig, who looked back up at her, fear in his eyes. Instead of saying anything, Gardenia went to the wall, dropping down into a squat and tucking her head between her knees, covering her head. She felt the whole building shake on its foundation, the walls rocking and the floor rolling and rising in waves, a ear-shattering rumbling filling her ears, accompanied by Turtwig's screams and Mars' snide laughter. The ground seemed to throw everything around as the earthquake built and intensified.

All at once, Gardenia heard every window in the building shatter. The shock of hearing it made her lose her balance and fall forward, her limbs sprawling limply over the floor. She winced and didn't try to get up, something mentally stopping her.

As the earthquake died down, Mars' laughter could be the only thing heard. She was forcing it, laughing loud and mockingly, squealing and clutching her stomach. She had bent over, clutching her stomach from the laughter, the smug smile still frozen on her face. Slowly, she rose up and steadied her legs, then sharply rose her back, taking a deep breath through her nose and exhaling sharply out her, lungs burning from laughter. A few chuckles escaped her as she paced around a panting Purugly, running her fingers up through her hair in thought and then letting her fingers go up and out, her hair sticking up in a red mess. She then turned on her heels, stepping towards the edge of where the hallway out to the main gym had begun, standing and pausing as she looked up into the gym.

Gardenia rolled onto her side slowly, incredibly sore, raising her head and looking over through squinted eyes at Turtwig; he had fainted, resting on his side in a white pile of debris. After taking a pause to stare at Turtwig's lifeless form, Gardenia grunted, putting her hands between her and the floor and lifting herself up onto two feet. She cleared her own parka off of any dirt by shaking it out briefly. Her back was sore and hadn't straightened, still bent and tilted to the side. On her hips, Gardenia's utility belt had two Pokeballs left.

Taking another brief inhale, Mars tilted her body towards Gardenia by taking a step back, her eyes still gazing wayward up into the gym through the hall. She then looked back at Gardenia, placing her hands on her hips.

"Wakey wakey, sunshine," Mars sighed. "C'mon, we got a battle to do."

Clicking the release on the Pokeball in her hand, Gardenia retrieved Turtwig, the red light sucking him back into his Pokeball. She then holstered her Pokeball, pulling off a new Pokeball from her belt.


	8. Mars' Psychedelic Breakfast, Part 3

Roserade struggled to lift her gaze, eyes bloodshot. The leafy green skin had started to yellow as she felt herself weakening. The white plumy tips of her rose head had curled and turned brown, the bouquets of flowers she held on her arms losing their color. Cracks had formed in her thin branch legs, the layers of stem starting to peel away. Summoning the last of her strength, she fell to her knees, screeching with a final breath, light rising from the tips of her bouquets.

On the opposite side of the hall, Purugly was losing her strength. Her thick legs could barely support her, and her face had grown tired and started to sag. All around her, thick spots of hot, orange-glowing energy started to form, filling in the patches of space around her with a searing sensation as the light grew to a blinding capacity. Slowly, Purugly's eyes drifted to thick black patches of fur where she had been burned with the same attack moments earlier. A low whimper came from her as she resigned to her fate, the whine only rising slightly when the heat spots around her shot flaming daggers in from all around, suddenly consuming her with a thick storm of flames. She screeched briefly, but it wavered as her strength diminished. Flames continued to dance around her as she collapsed to the floor, fur glowing in patches as it caught.

What could be seen of Purugly now quickly disappeared in a blinding array of red light, zapping back into Mars' Pokeball. With nothing to cling to and burn the flames disappeared into thin air. From behind the now empty space, Mars walked forward, tossing the Pokeball up and down slowly, her eyes tracking it, the catty grin returning to her lips.

"Cheer up, Gardenia. You beat me, that's it. I concede," said Mars, waving her hands mockingly.

Gardenia didn't speak. She pulled her Pokeball, pressing the release and returning Roserade to her Pokeball. She then stared up at Mars with a tired expression.

"Do you know what this means?"

"I won?" Gardenia said, raising an eyebrow, watching Mars get closer.

"No." Mars stopped in place, dropping her arms to her side. "It means we won. All of us."

All at once, Mars swung her arms wide, throwing her Pokeball point blank into Gardenia's face, breaking Gardenia's nose in the process. The Pokeball rolled off, bouncing into the distance and breaking open, Purugly's unconscious body limply flying forward and slamming to the ground, sliding towards the far end of the hall. As Gardenia recovered herself mentally, touching her nose with her hands and staring down into her hands when she saw blood, Mars ran up to Gardenia, hands out, and plowed into Gardenia at full speed. Mars' force sent Gardenia falling backwards, getting a brief yelp before Gardenia landed on the ground with a smack. After giving Gardenia had a few moments to groan in pain, Mars walked forward, stepping over Gardenia's cringing legs and dropping onto her knees, directly into Gardenia's stomach.

Gardenia threatened to throw up, feeling a searing pain in her stomach as Mars planted her full weight onto that area. A heavy, muscle-twisting pain that traveled through her whole chest replaced the sharp pain she had felt immediately after impact. She couldn't breathe, her throat and lungs choked by the damage done by Mars' knees, her nose filling with blood and running up through her nostrils as she involuntarily breathed. Her mind filled with a million different concerns and needs, all immediately deciding on one action; she sputtered up, her mouth filling with spit and blood.

Mars breathed throatily, stooping down to look into Gardenia's eyes as they tightened up in pain, her own going wide as she took it all in.

"Do you understand what you've done?" asked Mars, panting heavily. She lowered her voice so that Gardenia could hear it closely. "Don't you understand what I've been doing here? Why I'm here?"

Gardenia couldn't answer, still choking on her own blood and spit. She opened her mouth to reply as Mars was giving her a chance to reply, simply letting the bright red mixture dump further down her throat, giving her more to sputter about. Where her nose had been hit, blood ran into her mouth and down her face. She shut her eyes, the pain too great.

"It's escaping you. I know you're so close though. I just want you to think. Close your eyes, think real hard, because that's what you should've done before going up against me," said Mars. "You've made a huge mistake."

Lifting up slightly from where she kneeled over Gardenia, Mars' hand glided over to Gardenia's cheek, massaging it with her thumb. When blood leaked onto her fingers, she quickly wiped it up on the floor. When it didn't get the blood cleaned off of her fingers, she wiped it on the hood of Gardenia's parka, where it had fell down beneath Gardenia's head. She immediately went back to grabbing the side of Gardenia's head, shaking it loose slightly like she was waking Gardenia.

"C'mon Gardenia, think," Mars grunted. She released where she had been holding her head upright and slapped hard, sending blood splattering up onto her face.

The only sound Gardenia could make was a moan. She stared up into Mars' waiting eyes, a look of disgust in her eyes and on her brow. She watched, heaving slightly as Mars rolled off of Gardenia and slid her knees off of her chest, resting beside her. Instead of turning to see her, Gardenia stared up into space, slowly recuperating.

"You're not the bad guy, Gardenia," said Mars. "You did okay. You're not wrong either, I can't say that. I'm still not the bad guy. None of us are. The only 'bad' thing I can really say about myself today is that I didn't make that clear. In fact, in a way, I tricked you. Between the two of us, there is no bad guy. The bad guy isn't even in this room."

A slow, bubbling groan rose in Gardenia's mouth. She stared up into space, letting her breath escape her, her lungs compressing with some pain. She forced herself to breathe, pushing through the pain. It hurt to blink as well, but Gardenia pushed through.

"No… That's because the greater bad guy is out there… She's neither of us… That's because it's a deception. It's a big lie. Gardenia, I tricked you. This whole thing was a ploy. There's nothing to be said about this other than that. I provoked you… Heh, really, I did… I actually feel a bit bad about that, not because I was abrasive, but because, well, I lied too. I'm not that crazy. I feel sober enough now that I can finally say that."

Lifting her head several times, gaining the strength in her sore neck, Gardenia rolled over, looking up at Mars. It hurt to keep her head up and continue to stare like she did, so she rested her head on her side, feeling the blood start to drain from her nose down her cheek. She watched as Mars, who stared ahead, lifted a leg and tucked it under her arm, holding it as she stared ahead wistfully. The mix of blood and saliva in her mouth slowly trickled out from her open mouth, pooling onto the floor. She felt a fresh breath of air enter through her now open throat and fill her lungs again. She coughed, her own filth escaping her system. She blinked several times as fresh oxygen traveled up to her brain, giving her fresh thought and killing the tingling, burning sensation at the front of her brain. She had new focus, fresh thought, and better attention.

Mars looked down, meeting Gardenia's eyes, watching her struggle to breathe. She wore a grim expression. "We destroyed your city, Gardenia. Eterna City has been sacked. And you weren't around, at all. You were battling me. You were wasting time with me. We sinned together, Gardenia. This was us. That was my mission."

Through the pain, Gardenia squinted. She felt a shudder travel through her body. She felt cold, a sudden change from the overwhelming heat and exhaustion she had felt moments earlier. Her eyes traveled up to Mars', forcing her to squint. The light overhead from down the hall shadowed Mars' head and made it a pain to look at her, but through the shadows she could see that Mars was looking back down at her.

"We got what we came for today," Mars sighed. She stood up, stepping away once from Gardenia but still facing her. "That is, if all went well with Jupiter. The only question is the future."

Gardenia's head rolled back. She choked up a bit of blood as she did, sputtering.

Mars' clacking footsteps could be heard as she walked away, moving down the hall and away from her. Several other footsteps accompanied her, their voices rising in hushed whispers. After a few seconds, the other, lighter footsteps hurried off, leaving Mars and her loud clacking footsteps.

"The future…" Mars chuckled. "We still have to find a bad guy, don't we? Well, we have two, very plausible candidates… The first one is me; pretty obvious candidate. I mean, I was trying for the part all day, very hard in fact. I look the part too. All that has to be done is that—when someone finds you back here… Unconscious, dinged up real good… Someone did it. Someone hit you real good on your nose, gave you stomach cramps for a good couple of days… It's obvious it was me. You confronted me, story is what happened today…"

A long shadow drew over Gardenia, covering her body and the floor space up to where Mars stood. Looking up, squinting through the seemingly blinding sunlight, she could see the smug smirk on Mars' face, and that she was fumbling with something in her hands. A tiny, long paper sleeve was held in her hands. Her fingers pinched down deep into the sleeve, fumbling to get a lump of something out. What she pulled out with her two fingers was a small item in a tiny resealable plastic bag. She held it up to the light over her shoulder with two fingers, showing the all white pill.

"The future… of that story at least… Well, look at it this way. If you pick me for bad guy, I'm a twofer. I come with you, the second candidate for bad guy," said Mars. Very carefully, she extracted the white pill from the plastic bag and placed it atop the paper sleeve, both in the palm of her hand. "Think about how this looks—well, how it really looks. In Eterna City's darkest hour, in some of what the citizens of this fair city will call the worst moment of their lives, their gym leader was nowhere to be found. She was playing hanky-pank with some punk. She was wasting her time, time that could've been spent saving citizens from the threat of Team Galactic. When people called on you for help, you were nowhere to be found. You abandoned them, all for a cheap ruse."

Gardenia's eyes turned bloodshot as she watched Mars. They burned.

"You can do the right thing, turn me in for what I am, a scoundrel. Turn me in after explaining yourself—however you choose to spin it—and then they have to talk to me. And then I tell them my side of the story. My side—the only other side there is; I am the only other witness—is whatever I choose to tell. I'll tell them I distracted you. I'll tell them the truth. I could lie too, doesn't matter. I don't have to say how I distracted you. I could tell them we made love on the couch in your office. I could tell them we held your precious Turtwig down and kicked his brains out, repeatedly. Doesn't matter. You have to fess up that I distracted you."

Gardenia shut her eyes.

"And then what? What's next? What's the future? Well, it's simple. You go to jail. I go to jail too, make no bones about that. I've already ruined my life at Team Galactic, I'm going to jail someday. You don't have to go to jail, or at least you never did. See, the thing about jail is, you do it in front of everyone. It's who you are for a time. It becomes your identity, at least temporarily; it's not dirt under your fingernails, it's a tattoo. You get to tell your family what you did. You get to tell your friends."

Mars squatted down beside Gardenia, tucking her knees under her skirt and resting her hands over her knees as they folded together. She stared down at Gardenia, tilting her head thoughtfully.

"You can never be gym leader again," Mars seethed.

Mars' hands opened. She had the pill pinched in her palm, releasing gently and rolling to the tips of her fingers. She pinched it between thumb and forefinger, holding it out where both herself and Gardenia could see it. Squinting at it, she twirled it between her fingers thoughtfully.

"I don't like that future. It's too grim," said Mars. "So that's why I came up with a compromise. Though I don't know exactly what the future holds, and certainly everything I said could be avoided, it's bound to get messy. That's just how life is. So, here, is my solution." She shook the pill in her hand for effect, looking at her to make sure she was paying attention. "I'm sure you've heard of sleeping pills before. Well, you could get to experience one too, if you take my offer."

Shuffling over slightly, Mars pointed to the end of the hall, facing the light where the entrance had been made earlier.

"I know you can't see, but there are two gentlemen over there who are under me and willing to lift your deadweight when I give the command. I'll knock your ass out, drag you over to the rubble over there, where the supply closet is, put you under the table and pile some crap on you, look like the explosion knocked you out. Go ahead and lie too. Then you clearly were out of commission, no bones about it."

Lungs shuddering, trying to clear themselves out again, Gardenia's throat cleared with a wet, squelching sound. She drew breath through the one nostril that worked and exhaled through her throat.

Mars shuffled over again to face Gardenia a little closer, hearing her fading voice.

"I'll take it," Gardenia croaked.

Smiling to herself, Mars nodded with approval. Over her shoulder, she signaled to the grunts at the entrance, turning back to face Gardenia and listening to the footsteps of the grunts. From between where her skirt met her uniform, Mars slipped her fingers in, fumbling for the metal flask she had earlier, then looking over at where she had dropped it on the floor earlier. Sighing, she looked at the pill in her hands, raising an eyebrow. She then looked down at the pill.

Mars held the pill up, holding it close to her lips before looking down at Gardenia. "Good night, sweet prince."


	9. Mars' Psychedelic Breakfast, Part 4

Darkness washed over Gardenia, her mind adrift, blank, and her body sore.

Sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer and closer with each passing second.

A chorus of stampeding footsteps raced towards her, getting less and less muffled.

Wind howled from the outside and in as Gardenia's body felt exposed.

A huge weight filled her chest.

* * *

A thick grating sound filled Gardenia's ears. Her eyes shot open, shooting pain deep into her skull. The urge to scream filled her but she didn't have the strength. She felt trapped, pinned to the ground, a huge weight on her chest. Her head pounded. When her eyes focused, herself ignoring the pain, she stared out into darkness, barely a light on the wall. She couldn't move her limbs both in exhaustion but as some of them were pinned.

Something moved around her, the table and boxes atop her moving with jerky movements. The grating sound filled her ears again, alleviating some of the strain on her body that made her feel compressed. Gardenia opened her eyes again, squinting.

"Don't go anywhere honey," Mars grinned, standing over her in the darkness. Up above her she held a brick in her hand, dangling it in the darkness, waiting for Gardenia to flinch and have her eyes filled with fear, waiting for that moment where she could react to Gardenia's begging eyes. She let go of the brick, sending it tumbling through the air and straight into Gardenia's skull, instantly knocking Gardenia out.

* * *

The weight of the things atop Gardenia strained her, compressing her limbs and forcing her to rest uncomfortably. Shifting herself intensified the pain tenfold and did nothing to move the tables and boxes. The more she stayed still and rested, the worse the aching pain got.

A throaty groan escaped Gardenia as she cleared her lungs, the thick viscous liquid still in her mouth. When she attempted to spit, the blood and saliva slid outside her lips, rolling down her chin and onto her parka. Fresh air entered her throat and awakened a burning sensation like she had never experienced. It ran the length of her throat and down deep into her stomach, searing all the way; she was thirsty. Through her already aching hips and stomach she knew she too had to go to the bathroom, but knew wanting it only made it worse. Struggling, Gardenia cleared her throat again, getting air into it.

"H-Help… Please…" Gardenia struggled, voice croaking.

"You think you deserved to be saved…" Mars smirked, chuckling to herself quietly. "That's cute."

Mars sat on a desk across from her, visible from where Gardenia's torso was tucked beneath the wreckage. She tucked her leg up onto the table with her, planting her heel on the table and lifting her leg to be just beneath her skirt. Her other leg dangled freely, but atop the thigh that wasn't tucked under the skirt, Mars had a small white Styrofoam container balanced on her thigh. In her hands she held a tiny silver packet. She placed the edge of the packet into her teeth, clamping down and tearing. Mars pulled a white corner from the inside of the package, pulling the small white wet wipe from inside, rubbing her fingers on the inside of the wet wipe before wadding it up and tossing it aside. She then placed the white Styrofoam container on the table, opening it up just past where Gardenia could see.

Flipping the white lid off of, Mars reached in, pulling out a thick, meaty turkey leg drumstick, holding it up on her knees and admiring it with a smile, twirling it between her fingers. The light cast on Mars came from a bright yellow street light outside, not from the empty moon in the night sky, coming through the blinds on the wall. The slatted light on the wall blended together into a bright yellow blob of light. Although the whole side of Mars was lit brightly in the streetlight, there was no shadow on the wall. Every so often, the wind from the glassless window would knock the blinds around and warp the light in the room. No matter what, the grease on the turkey leg always shined brightly, looking beautiful and alluring in Mars' grip.

"So, let's think about why no one's rescued you," said Mars.

The juices from the turkey leg had started to run down her hand and arm, dripping off onto the table. As Mars finished admiring the turkey leg, she leaned in and took a huge bite of the turkey leg, almost growling as she did. Her teeth tore through the white meat and the burnt, greasy skin, pulling back and tearing away through the stringy meat. Chewing through thick chunks noisily, Mars covered her mouth briefly, then uncovering herself and swallowing. The grease still covered her lips, she hadn't wiped it away, chunks of skin and meat sticking to her cheeks.

Mars turned the leg in her hand, taking another bite. Taking in a deep snort of air through her nostrils, she looked down at the floor, and then back up to Gardenia. She didn't wipe her mouth again either.

"What do we know so far? I think that's a good place to start, as long as we're speculating," said Mars. "Well, we know that you got your ass beat—" Mars paused, swallowing more chewed-up turkey, "—and then, in desperation, you took one of the deals I put on the table. Now, we really didn't talk about the pros and cons about this deal, but we both knew the biggest 'con' was that I'd be getting away, scot-free. That seemed to work because, well, the way we discussed it, you and I were the same criminal in this situation. We both messed up here. I don't necessarily think that's a bad position to have, because there is some truth to it."

Inside the Styrofoam container, Mars pulled out a large, silver packet, seemingly bulging towards the center and warping as she turned it gently in her hands. Like the first packet, Mars placed this one between her teeth, tearing gently as her arm pulled the packet away. The packet tore open a section at a time at the top, curling around the corner, until the torn flap of the packet tore down sharply and dragged along the length of the packet. Dark, chunky gravy spilled out down Mars' chin and down her uniform, the packet flying from her grip. Mars swore under her breath, not pausing to wipe herself up but instead picking up the packet. Sighing to herself, Mars took a moment to pause, then lifted both the turkey leg and the packet of gravy. She held the turkey leg out horizontally, the carved out section facing up where Mars had chewed her way into and exposed the grayish bone at the core. She pinched the end of the packet at and angle so that her palm caught where the bag sagged down. A syrupy stream of gravy poured from the packet, collecting and turning into a runny brown puddle atop the turkey leg. Wispy strands of steam rose up to the top and dissipated, immediately replaced by more strands of steam.

"It's a good lie, is the point," Mars said quickly, quickly taking several small bites where the gravy had started to drip from the turkey leg. Gravy from the new edges of where she had torn into the turkey ran over and dripped onto her nose, running slowly down her cheeks. She didn't stop to wipe it up, continuing to let it run with all the other juices that covered her face. "And I'm glad you took it, because it has several advantages to me. But, we're avoiding the main topic here; why no one is coming for you."

Gardenia blinked slowly, lazily, the pain returning deep in her skull, behind her eyes. Her headache had returned, her skull feeling like it was about to burst forth and explode with the building pressure behind it. She was too focused to let the pain take over.

"See, Gardenia, no one is coming for you. That was part of the deal initially. I never promised you would be found. You should've asked me to call the police, but that was the whole reason I made up your guilt—yes, made up. There's no way you'd be punished for fighting me. I'm a member of Galactic Executive Command; as far as this region is concerned, I am evil incarnate. You would've been a hero just for getting to see my face. Heck, now you can even spin it like you're a hero for talking me into knocking you out—you know it's better than being our prisoner. Living in a basement is no life for anyone… No… But listen now! See, you can't be rescued. There's too much damage! You're now a needle in a haystack of our carnage. How many people do you think we legitimately did this to? How many people do you think are wallowing in the carnage of their houses with their children, waiting for the same help you are? You needed to be gone. There's no place for you in this story… Don't you see it now? Everyone is in the same boat as you. There's no way you'll be rescued in time… There's nothing to rescue here… And that's good! Everyone needs to be without their gym leader. Everyone needs to suffer. Everyone needs to hurt, so that they can learn. It's the only way."

Sinking her teeth in, Mars twisted the bone in her hand and tore the turkey meat away from the bone. A large, bulbous section of the meat clung to her teeth, resting on her chin, drizzling grease into her lap. She tilted her head back with her mouth open, letting the large chunk fall into her mouth and closing her mouth around it. A strand of skin still clung to the bone from the large chunk in Mars' mouth. The bone pulled away with a quick pull of her head, leaving only a bit left towards the length of the leg. Her teeth gnashed as she worked through the bulk, almost choking on the amount she had taken off.

Gardenia watched motionlessly. Despite being trapped beneath the array of debris only up to her torso, she still did not move her hands or her head, watching instead the desk that Mars sat on. Her neck was incredibly sore still and she refused to lift her head from where it rested slightly forward.

"They… Need… To know… Gardenia… They have to know what it's like to live without leadership, in chaos… Then they will know how truly helpless they are… And you will learn too…"

Mars slipped the bone between her lips and down into her mouth. Her teeth pinched together along the bone, and she pulled the bone slowly, stripping it of the remaining bits of flesh. She pulled out the bone, holding it high, gazing with a satisfied smile as she chewed. She paused to reach into her mouth, pulling out and flicking out something tough she was chewing. She then rested her arm on her knees, dangling the bone, dropping the bone.

"So you need to ask yourself, Gardenia…" began Mars. She slid off of the desk, landing on her feet. The Styrofoam container rested alone, empty on the table, and Mars walked off without it. "You need to ask yourself…"

Still refusing to lift her head, Gardenia heard Mars walking her footsteps growing quieter and eventually dissipating. She frowned, listening intently, wondering if she had left the room.

A loud, clack of footsteps snapped Gardenia's attention upward, alerting her to someone standing over her; Mars. Her burning throat stopped her from gasping and shuddering with fear, but she had shown her fear through her eyes, looking up to Mars' and meeting her confident, knowing eyes. She watched helplessly as Mars grinned wide with her messy face, holding the dark outline of an all too familiar brick.

"Who do you think is in charge?"

She let go of the brick, sending it tumbling through the air and straight into Gardenia's skull, instantly knocking Gardenia out.


	10. The Morning After

A thick grating sound filled Gardenia's ears. Her eyes shot open, shooting pain deep into her skull. The urge to scream filled her but she didn't have the strength. She felt trapped, pinned to the ground, a huge weight on her chest. Her head pounded. When her eyes focused, herself ignoring the pain, she stared out into darkness, barely a light on the wall. She couldn't move her limbs both in exhaustion but as some of them were pinned.

Her eyes burned. Something was blinding them, a powerful source of light pointed at them. She shut her eyes, unable to shut out the light. She closed them tighter, shooting pain into her skull. Her head rolled forward slowly, her neck creaking and flaring up the sore areas deep in her shoulders. A high, raspy groan came from deep in her worsened throat, the only gasp of pain she would allow herself.

Finally, Gardenia forced her eyes open. A flashlight was shining directly at her. When she moved her head away, looking around the beam of light that subsequently moved, she could see a tall, dark figure, stepping around the wreckage. The figure was a much more filled in, masculine figure, a stark contrast to Mars' thin and wiry one. Gardenia stared ahead blankly, watching him, no surprise, fear or desperation in her eyes. Her whole body was too sore to fight through the wreckage. A foul stench rose up from her, filled with blood and sweat, dirt and debris. She felt like she had been awake for several days.

The man lowered his flashlight, stooping down over Gardenia. His features seemed to have no discernable detail to them; his strongest feature was his brow, and it seemed to be furrowed with concern. His flashlight powered off in his hands with a click as he got closer, leaning in to look at the wreckage, where Gardenia was buried.

A loud, crashing sound came from behind the wreckage. A young man was stepping through a doorway, flashlight scanning the room quickly and landing on the man closest to Gardenia and triggering the reflective bands on his vest. Quickly, he stepped around the wreckage to get the light fully onto the man and Gardenia, then focusing in on Gardenia.

"Shit…" the young guy stammered, quickly stepping over the wreckage and back to the doorway. His clumsy footsteps tore through the hall and made clattering noises. His voice rose sharply as he shouted. "We've got another one!" he shouted. "We've got another one! Back here! Back room!"

* * *

"We've got dinner for you here dear… We made some roast beef, bit of broccoli, some mashed potatoes… Sweet potatoes… Oh," the lady paused, smiling through pursed lips, "you're going to love it, dear."

Gardenia seemed to stumble over her feet, instead walking stiffly with her feet set wide apart. Her whole body moved slowly, struggling, just trying to stay upright. She walked like it was her first time on unsure legs. The arm around her backside from the woman beside her helped her up but kept her moving, and Gardenia kept her arm around her shoulder, keeping herself upright with all her might.

The woman was older, likely middle-aged, her hair pulled back in curlers as she had when she was in bed. She wore an apron over her bathrobe, a bit of food still on it from the haste in which she had put together the food.

The two approached the end of the dark hallway, stepping out into the light of the kitchen. A white wood table sat in the center of the kitchen with the main light for the room hanging over it. The chair opposite the two had a plate prepared in front of it, overflowing with food; everything the lady had said on it. In the corner of the plate was a tall pile of white mashed potatoes, a single, perfect slice of butter atop it, with a heap of broccoli beside it, simmering in its own juices that rose up through the pile. A thick slab of beef took over the whole left side of the plate, leaking brown and bright orange juice that pooled in the plate. Leaning on the beef was a stack of sliced sweet potato chunks, stacked like chips on a poker table.

A loud, shrill creak snapped Gardenia's focus. The woman took the large wood chair that faced the plate, gripping the two posts that made up either side of the back and dragging sharply, sliding it out from beneath the table. The woman hastily grabbed a rag from the counter, wiping off the chair seat and then placing a cushion down on the chair that had been perfectly cut for it. She patted it, looking up at Gardenia expectantly.

Gardenia placed her hands on the tabletop edge, sliding herself over gently, feeling her legs weaken beneath her as she bent her legs to slide around the chair. She ignored the sharp pain in her knees as she sat in the chair, easing herself into it at her own pace. She breathed a sigh of relief, sliding the chair forward ever so easily, leaning forward on the chair. She stared down at her meal through tired eyes.

The woman set down a wire basket filled with napkins in the center of the table. In front of it she slid a salt shaker and a pepper shaker, then slid the whole thing closer to the plate. Underneath Gardenia's plate she tucked a napkin, then rested a fork and knife.

A tall, white pitcher rocked the table as it was set down, and a tall plastic glass rested beside it. The woman poured a cup, placing beside Gardenia's plate. She then sat beside Gardenia, the chair she pulled out facing out from where it normally faced the table, her body facing Gardenia when she sat. Her arm rested, elbow on the table, giving her a chance to rest her head. She stifled a yawn with her other hand, staring down at Gardenia's plate and then back up at her.

"I don't know a single young person, boy or girl, who'd want to eat after going what you went through… But you've got to eat, now, your body needs it… You've slept for 16 hours, girl…"

Gardenia continued to stare at her plate. As her eyes traveled to the knife and fork, her shaking hand reached up and grabbed for the fork, picking it up and sliding it her fingers at a snail's pace. After a moment of holding her fork at the edge of the plate, she slid the plate around , putting the beef on the right side with her right hand. She stuck her fork into the edge of the beef, starting to reach for the knife but instead feeling the teeth of her fork tear through the stringy beef, almost melting away. Gardenia pulled it away and slid it into her mouth, her mouth closing and chewing weakly. She took a deep snort of air, deeply impressed and taken with a flavor that wasn't her own blood. Inspired by the little bite she had taken, she started at the rest of the cut of beef, taking larger bites, her body suddenly aware of how hungry it was.

Smiling, the woman stood up, walking to the far end of the kitchen, leaving Gardenia to eat. She sighed, flipping open the plastic lid of the coffee machine and resting it on the wall behind it. In a drawer beneath the counter, the woman pulled up a box, gritting her teeth as she slid out a paper filter. She then hid the box, sliding the filter out on the round slot atop the coffee machine. A metallic bag of coffee grounds came onto the counter as well. After using the measuring cup hidden inside the bag, the woman poured in the coffee ground into the machine, closing it. She slid a hollow glass pot underneath the plastic spout, getting the necessary water and hooking up the machine to the wall.

Gardenia had caught herself staring. After a moment, she turned her head over her shoulders, looking down at her plate. Her fork was held upright in her hand, and her hand curled into a fist beside the plate. After a moment, she took a deep breath, and then picked up the plate into her hand, lifting it with her arm. She held it close to her mouth, taking the fork and holding it close to the base, putting her thumb just before the teeth. She scooped the broccoli to the edge of the plate, opening her mouth and shoveling it, filling her mouth.


	11. The Bare Minimum

_"This pesticide thing in Sinnoh is an excellent story and I can't wait to hear all the thoughts from this panel, but first I'd like to take a moment to talk about our sponsor, also in Sinnoh, the Global Terminal!_

 _"Listen folks, we live in a changing world, and its time we stop pretending like it's not going to affect us. Technology is changing the way we do every little thing and—think of this—it's not a bad thing! The vast world of Pokemon has had a tremendous relationship with networking and it's time to take it to the next stage with the Global Terminal._

 _"This is a fantastic facility, and it's right next door to us, too. I'm sure you've heard of the Global Trading Station, the 'GTS' as the kids are talking about. That's what this place is known for. It's the first floor, the first thing you see, and it's got this iconic—almost looks like it's hovering—it's this big globe of the earth, and it's spinning. It's got a little touch console at the bottom of it, you put in your location, and there it is! Just the little act of setting your location shows you the scale of what the Global Terminal is trying to do._

 _"The GTS is a wonderful place for finding Pokemon throughout the whole world and trading them, and it's just the tip of the iceberg—it's just one floor of this place! They're expanding it to five floors in the winter, and boy is this going to be incredible. You will be able to watch videos, trade videos, manage your online presence in the Pokemon world, even participate in battles! If you're anything like me, heh, you know I don't like battles—I'm just not good at them. But think of it! I love looking at pictures of different, exotic Pokemon throughout the world, imagining what they're like, but then seeing them in person! Oh wow, it's like nothing else. You've got to see it to believe it, and the GTS will help you with that! Just go up to the counter, ask the receptionist, guy or girl, and they'll help pair you with the exact person and Pokemon you're looking for. You can make the trade, check out the different individual Pokemon and their stats, or even wait! If you don't see the Pokemon you want, or you see a Pokemon but don't have the Pokemon that the trader wants, you can put up one of your own and see the results come back to you! It's all secure, managed and authorized by every government of every region that offers trading to—and believe me, it's quite a list. This… This is incredible. And it's just one of the services the Global Terminal offers!_

 _"Check out their website for more information: , or go ahead and pop in! The Global Terminal is located in Jublife City, right next to our offices in the TV building here. Pop in to the Global Terminal, make a couple of trades, then pop in and say hello to us. I just—I really believe that the Global Terminal is a 21st century company, they've really used their resources to make a great service that really helps a lot of the population—and sets us up for success in the future! The Global Terminal, make a trade today!"_

* * *

Gardenia sat on the edge of the bed, blanket draped over her lap. She stared down at her feet and the ground, staring off into space as she thought. Her hands felt for the blanket, just feeling the soft texture on her skin, looking down at the rocket ship pattern on it. She stared up at the wall, looking at the cute astronaut-and-rocket-ship themed wallpaper, the thin strip than ran just beneath the molding, like a crown on the room. She was looking past it, staring at the patch of light that was growing on it. Looking over her shoulder, Gardenia squinted, looking through the light coming through the blinds.

Outside, the sun was rising. The window opened up into the house's backyard, facing the Eterna Forest. Through the trees, a bright, golden glow was coming through the trees. The sky was a honey color at the tree tips, blending into the cool blue night sky where the last of the evening stars twinkled.

Rubbing exhaustion from her eyes, Gardenia looked down at herself, the Digglettland sweater that hung loosely off her torso, two sizes two big, and down at the long, beaten jeans that went past her bare feet. Across from her, resting against the wall among all the toys of the room's usual occupant, Gardenia's boots stood tall, despite their poor condition. The toughened fabric had torn from the rigid foam body on the sides and tops, going in thick streaks where Gardenia had been pulled from. More patches where tears, dirt and debris stains appeared on the outside of the boots. Overall, they were still both in one piece.

Using the long, wool socks that had been provided, Gardenia slid the socks on, and then the boots.

* * *

A long, single lane paved road ran the length of the neighborhood, curving around at the end to cut through more of the neighborhood. A wall of tall, dense trees lined the neighborhood, before the gigantic rock-face wall interrupted it on the north side.

Gardenia's legs moved unsteadily. Her knees refused to bend with any step she took, and she continued to move with stiff legs down the length of the road, traveling at a snails pace.

Outside, as the sun reached mid morning, people outside of their houses would watch every so often, stepping out towards their window to look at Gardenia, staying for moments at a time before heading back inside. The street remained empty, aside from a pair of kids riding their bikes. Wild flocks of Starly pecked at smashed-in food on the street, nosing through mashed lumps of old pine needles, moments before flying off and regrouping. The whistling wind and the mellow chirping Starly were the only sounds in the quiet neighborhood.

Gardenia continued to hobble along, continuing at her slow pace, heading towards the city.

* * *

" _You have three new messages."_

* * *

Beneath her 'new' Diglettland sweater, Gardenia wore a loose, black, beaten tank top, from what she had been wearing in the gym a day ago. Sliding the sweater off, she tossed it on the floor in a heap, stepping around it towards her drawer. She held her bare arms, shivering from the freezing temperatures, sinking down on her knees to a lower drawer. She opened the drawer quickly, reaching in and yanking out a low-cut black sweater. She slid the slim-fitted garment over herself, stretching it over her arms so that the lengthy sleeves fit over her hands. The low-cut piece couldn't be helped, exposing her navel. She squatted down again, pulling out a pair of shorts from the bottom drawer.

As Gardenia contemplated pulling off the thick, baggy jeans she wore, she paused. Puffing out her cheeks in thought, Gardenia stepped back towards the drawer, leaning forward and sliding the topmost drawer, looking at the sparse contents. Her hand dug through it, finding nothing of importance. Furrowing her brow, Gardenia stepped back, heading to the closet.

* * *

" _First Message:"_

" _Gardenia! It's Consular Sterling. Hey—shit—listen, I need to talk to you as soon as possible. I just took a look at the gym and it isn't looking too good. I heard a rumor one of the rescue workers took you back to his old lady to help. Just let me know that it's true. We need to talk about what we're going to do about the gym. Did you get my other messages? Well listen, I—I gotta—I'll call you back."_

* * *

Gardenia retraced her fingers over the hangers in the closet, looking through the different clothing items hanging; jackets, sweaters, dresses, one or two swimsuits. After walking her fingers along the pastel hangers she paused, stepping out of the closet and leaving the door open.

Grabbing the shorts with one hand and the sweater with the other, Gardenia left the bedroom, heading down the stairs to the main room.

* * *

" _Next Message:"_

" _Good morning Gardenia. I don't know when you'll get this, I know you were planning to walk home in the morning, so I figured I'd just leave this now. This is Diana, we're the Dulgreen residence, where you stayed the night before. Hopefully we provided a bit of aid as well as some of the comforts of home while you were hurting. Anyway, I just wanted to call and let you know that St. Helena Hospital is due to open today as usual. I suggest getting there as soon as possible, as it's likely going to fill up again. They didn't pull in emergency workers for this one. Anyway, I hope you're well, and that things turn out for the best. Good luck! Call us if you need anything."_

* * *

In the stairwell, Gardenia had successfully slid her shorts on. She slid the belt borrowed out from her jeans, sliding it in on the new shorts. She folded up the sweater with the jeans, setting them on the tiny table in the living room.

On the counter by the front door, Gardenia had left a plastic grocery bag, packed full of clothes. Grabbing it, she pulled it around to the couch, setting it on the couch and then sitting down beside it. A knot had been tied on the top. Gardenia slid both her thumbs into the opening, going past the knot tearing the bag wide open. Inside, stacked neatly, Gardenia recognized the clothing as her own.

* * *

" _Last Message:"_

" _Hey Gardenia, this is Roark. I hope everything is okay."_

* * *

On top of everything, Gardenia's green parka rested in a folded pile. Gardenia pulled it out, resting it over her knees. The hood flipped back almost automatically, draping down over her knees. It was nearly torn off, a huge hole through the back of it.

The whole of it was in tatters, torn at every edge. On the shoulder, the patch with the Eterna City Gym emblem so dirty and smeared it was unrecognizeable. The Forest Badge emblem had deep gashes through the tight knitting. Even as Gardenia tried to rub out some of the dirt, the patch on the shoulder couldn't be saved. That, and a few bile stains that had ran down the front of the parka would not come out easily.

* * *

" _I… I just wanted to call and check in. I heard about Eterna City, the attack. It sounds like they hit the gym pretty good. I mean, luckily it sounds like it—the gym—was the worst, and it wasn't a whole lot more than graffiti, but I, well, I can imagine it's upsetting. I'm really sorry to hear about it…"_

* * *

Gardenia shut her eyes as they burned. Her face twisted in agony, moments for she made a loud choking noise. Her eyes opened slightly, tears flowing from their corners. She keeled over slowly, her head resting on the couch and burying itself in the parka.

Gardenia wept.

* * *

"… _Listen, I know you've got about six billion messages like this, but I just wanted to… Well… I just wanted to make sure everything was okay… Call me some time…?"_

" _End of messages. 33 unread messages from yesterday. Repeat or continue?"_


	12. The Eterna Gym

The treadmill thudded repeatedly against the ground, whirring lightly as its motor ran, the whole aluminum body rocking with each footstep. A fan whirred loudly, and a speaker blared even louder next to the treadmill.

Gardenia gritted her teeth, sprinting on the treadmill's rubber belt. She took sharp, rapid breaths through her nose, shooting them back out through her mouth as her whole face turned bright red. A burning sensation shot up her legs, most painfully in her knees, her feet cramping in her running shoes.

Groaning loudly, the pain started to get to Gardenia. Her face paled as she felt a twisting pain in her stomach. In desperation, she slammed her hand against the treadmill console blindly and fumbled for the 'Stop' button. A loud beep responded to her when she found the correct button. The whirring motor that kept the belt going at a breakneck pace slowed drastically, grinding to a halt beneath her feet. Gardenia slowed her pace with coordinated steps as not to hurtle herself into the wall.

When the treadmill finished stopping, Gardenia stepped backwards off the treadmill, agonizing pain sparking off of every nerve in her leg. She moved stiffly, clearing both legs of the treadmill. She tried to hold herself steady on two legs, standing as still as possible. Momentum kicked in and she walked forward suddenly, catching herself on her legs, leaning back to keep herself steady on her legs. Seconds later, Gardenia tumbled forward, landing on her hands and knees, moments before her arms gave way and she landed on her side, rolling into her shoulder. A loud wince came from Gardenia moments after crashing to the ground. She rolled onto her back slowly, easing herself onto her back and trying to relax.

Gardenia caught her breath as she stared up at the ceiling. Her arm rested over her chest, feeling for her pounding heart beneath a sweat-soaked shirt. Her legs were sprawled and weak, unable to lift themselves from their uncomfortable position.

Tucking all of her limbs in, her back arched, rolling her up towards her head and then forward. Her legs threatened to buckle as her feet made contact with the ground and pushed off slowly. To balance the pain, Gardenia reached forward and grabbed for the metal pole of the guardrail on the treadmill, tugging and pulling herself forward, lifting herself all the way onto two legs. She held both of the guardrails on either side of the treadmill, leaning forward and supporting herself on both, easing the weight back into her legs. She groaned, a burning pain spreading from her knees. All at once, Gardenia let go of the rails, easing back onto two legs, standing upright on just her feet. After a moment of getting used to the pain, Gardenia took a step back and walked to the center of the living room.

A tall, plastic water bottle rested on the edge of the coffee table. Sunlight shone through the plastic and gave a bare outline of the water line inside of it. The drips of water from where the cap had been sealed moments ago made the water bottle seem alluring. As Gardenia walked past it, she picked it up, not bothering to look up at it and instead staring outside the window, pressing the plastic spout between her lips. She squeezed hard on the body of the water bottle, draining the contents forcefully through the spout.

After a moment of staring out her window, Gardenia headed back through the living room, towards the treadmill beside the stairs in the kitchen. The kitchen was tucked behind a wall with two large openings; one for a wide window-like opening with a counter, hiding the sink, a few cabinets and a microwave, and the second opening being a doorway without a door. A small glass sliding door was towards the back kitchen wall, leading into a small alcove beneath the stairs, usually for storage. The alcove was filled with Gardenia's treadmill. Several boxes of exercise equipment and other stored things usually rested atop the belt but had been pushed outside, stacked in front of the glass sliding door.

On the kitchen counter, Gardenia set down the empty water bottle, giving a crisp gasp of air as her thirst had been relieved. Beside the water bottle was a small speaker set; a grayish plastic box with a molded grate atop it, a digital time display in front of it with an array of buttons in the black plastic bezel. Beside the speaker set was a warped, lumpy paper bag, 'CDs' written in pen on the front.

Sifting through the paper bag, feeling her way through the paper-sleeved CDs inside, Gardenia pulled out one and scrutinized the marker-written label, the most recent date inside. She set it on the counter with a papery 'thwap', curling in the paper bag up and setting it back against the wall. With a hand holding the sleeve and a hand sliding the CD out carefully, Gardenia took the CD and hit the eject button from the speaker set, pulling the CD carefully from the slot just atop the digital clock, then slid the newest CD into the set. A gentle whirring came from inside the speaker set, several digital clicks indicating it was reading it. A voice came from inside the speaker set quietly. Gardenia hit the plastic volume rocker atop the set, raising the volume to a loud level.

* * *

 _"It's time for it's time for Home and Herb! We've got a lot of the regulars here today, and boy are we tired of them! Heh heh, just kidding, it's a fantastic team of people here and we're going to be talking about all the latest in botany, vegetation, and of course, something about your home. Plus, what's this Mossy Rock we keep hearing about and what does it have to do with a certain Pokemon? Are grass-type Pokemon equally represented? And what the heck is going on with the Safari Zone in Johto? Did they put a kid in charge? All coming up next, on Home and Herb."_

* * *

The treadmill beeped loudly, the lights on the front panel coming to life. Gardenia's fingers hovered very briefly over the soft-press buttons, immediately going to the arrow keys next to 'course select'. After forcing her fingers several times to select the right one, Gardenia hit the 'Start' button hard, getting another beep of confirmation. The motors deep in the metal and plastic housing of the treadmill started to spin the rubber belt. Gardenia's standstill body rolled back towards the edge, moments before she picked up her legs, throwing one foot in front of the other as the treadmill quickly picked up to the same quick pace it had before.

* * *

The cover on Gardenia's cell phone flipped open, bringing the screen to life. As her fingers immediately went to the select key, she hesitated, looking at the grainy LCD picture of Turtwig grinning on the cell phone screen's wallpaper. After a moment of staring, she sighed, shaking off a feeling building deep in her throat, holding the '3' key. On screen, it popped up with the ID of a contact, 'Consular Sterling'.

Placing it to her ear, Gardenia folded her arms, listening to the dial tone. She leaned against the kitchen counter, brushing up her sweat-slicked bangs out of her eyes, looking past her sweaty exercise wear to the long shower towel in her hands.

The phone picked up on the other end with a click. "Hello?"

"Consular?"

"Who is this? What is this? Is this Johto or something? I'm in Sinnoh, do you know how often I use my phone?"

Gardenia smiled, staring up at the ceiling. "Consular, it's Gardenia. I had no other choice of reaching you."

A brief silence on the phone ensued. Moments later, the Consular returned. "Gardenia! Dammit, do you know how worried I was about you? You're turning me into your mother. I thought those freaks had carted you off, or something awful. Where are you—right now, where are you? Are you at home?"

Gardenia fought a chuckle, holding her hand out to no one as she tried to work through this mentally. "Consular—Consular—" she tried to interrupt the storm of thoughts the consular was spewing. "I'm at home. Everything's fine. Just a bit… Sore… That's all."

"Good lord Gardenia, why didn't you call sooner? I'd think you were really hurting! You still in town? You didn't flee after that, did you?"

"Consular, please—I'm okay. Just—I'm just calling about the gym."

"What about the gym?" asked the consular.

"Well, I—"

"There's no gym any more, Gardenia. Team Galactic trashed it. It's history."

Swallowing, taking a deep breath, Gardenia continued. "Well, I was wondering what needs to happen now. I mean, I missed a day and a half of work, didn't I? I didn't call in sick. Just wondering when I should come back to work, or what the plan is."

There was a pause on the other line. "What? Gardenia, are you kidding me? I'd be pissed if you didn't take the whole week off with you and everything that's happened. You need rest little lady."

"No, I won't accept that," said Gardenia, taking a deep breath. "We need the gym up and running as soon as possible. I want to be there first thing in the morning, even if we need to do it in the lobby of the Pokemon Center. If Eterna City is as bad as I've heard, then I want something working. That's the only way we get past this."

A long, drawn out sigh came from the other end of the line. "So why'd you call me? So I could tell you something, and then have you tell me that's not what we're doing today?"

"I lost my key to the place. I need you to come with me too, take a look at it. I want someone to talk about our options. See if we can't use the space or if we need to move," said Gardenia.

An audible, fake gasp came from the other end of the line. "Our options? You made it sound like this was your operation now."

"It's not, but I'm overriding your decision to close us for the week. I'll let you override mine if you decide we can't open there or anywhere."

Gardenia felt a pause. She shifted her feet beneath her, standing up a little taller as she watched her sneakers. She looked up, listening to the long pause.

"I'll meet you at the front door. Eightish," sighed the Consular.

* * *

Standing atop the main gym platform, the stage for battling in the gym, Gardenia looked over the darkened area. Her hands remained stuffed in her thick overcoat; her arms were huddled up in the thick black material. She stared coldly over the gym, standing on the edge of the platform she always looked out upon.

The lights in the gym were bright red. Hidden behind the heavy, caged fluorescent lamps were emergency lights hidden deep up in the rafters, casting red spotlights through the hazy room. The room remained in shadows, but many things were visibly different.

The blue-painted walls, done to imitate the sky, no longer looked clean and pleasant. Every wall had huge swathes painted over with graffiti in simple, messy, multicolored lines. The paint had ran when it was done hastily, breaking the charming illusion. Large muddy sections were the only thing covering the graffiti. Chunks of it had been thrown up on the walls, but large gradients had formed where mud had been blasted up from the ground.

Though the light largely obscured the maze below, large reflective sections could be seen where pools and puddles had formed. Large chunks of tall hedge maze walls had collapsed, torn down and knocked aside, torn up from the ground. The paths through had been brick, covered over with dirt and lined by grass lawns, a margin before the tall hedges. Flooded sections of the maze swamped around the hedges and through them in some cases. Loose branches and leaves floated in the small puddles, some hedges covering the puddles entirely.

As Gardenia stepped over the muddied steps, she looked down into the clock. A thin pool of water had formed, mostly collected by a side that had collapsed in on the clockface. The paint had already started to wear on it. The heavy-duty motor that spun the clock hands was soaked, looking burnt up around the edges. The cut-out section at the center of the clock that housed more of the mechanics, power and processing to the clock hands was filled with water, loose cables floating up to the surface.

Consular Sterling approached from the rear, his unsteady footsteps resonating in the silent building. When he got to the opposite edge where the ramp up to the stage platform ended, Gardenia stepped up from the clock edge, walking up to the edge before backtracking, walking backwards as she gazed out upon the gym.

"I couldn't get the mains back on. Somebody flipped the auxiliary power and kept it on, and luckily—and, well, unfortunately—it's all we've got," said the Consular. He shrugged, tossing his hands up weakly as he stared up at Gardenia.

"I flipped it on, two days ago. Guess they gave it back to us," said Gardenia, staring coldly at the gym.

Consular Sterling stared up at her briefly, brow furrowed and mouth agape as he was about to ask, instead choosing to stare out at the wreckage of the gym and step forward, alongside Gardenia.

"It didn't come on at all, when I powered it on the other day… Somebody gave it back to us…"

Blinking several times, massaging his eyes, Consular Sterling looked down at his feet tentatively, shuffling quietly. After a moment he cursed under his breath. The thick, wooly trench coat he wore, clinging tightly to his wiry body, had an array of pockets on the front. After taking the hat from his head, he set it down on the floor beside his feet, then reached into the front breast pocket of his jacket. He pulled a beaten box of cigarettes, the same box with the same, scribbled-out Seviper and cowboy hat on the front. He slid a cigarette out, sliding into his mouth quickly and producing a lighter from the same pocket. He lit the end, taking a sharp inhale and puffing out a bit of smoke.

"So," the consular groaned, clearing his throat. He paced the length of the stage slowly, puffing on his cigarette, waving his hand around for effect. "What does, 'gave it back to us' mean?"

Brushing her hair back up out of her eyes, the black headband sliding up higher as she rubbed her forehead, Gardenia stepped forward, back onto the steps down into the clock. She sat down on the edge of the clock, rubbing her hands together. She let out a breath, watching it turn to steam in front of her.

"I—I don't know…"

The consular squinted as he took a particularly sharp inhale of the cigarette, staring at Gardenia as he chewed the bottom of his lip. He then turned, returning to his slow pacing. When he got to the far end of the stage, Gardenia's end of the stage, he looked down over the edge, looking at where her equipment, seeing the cart of supplies—potions, TMs, badges, her regeneration chamber—tipped over and resting in the mud, partially submerged. The regeneration chamber had fallen and slid into a puddle, the front of the lid covered in mud. The bag of TMs was coated in muddy droplets, her bag of potions completely submerged. Shimmering, diamond-like sparkles lined the bottom of one puddle; the final resting place of the bag of Forest Badges.

Taking two final, heavy draws from the cigarette, the consular pulled it from his lips, flicking it into a puddle below, where the orange tip immediately went out with a hiss. Stooping down painfully, back cracking as he did so, the consular picked up his hat, carrying it with him as he approached Gardenia.

"Well, here's what we do know—listen—I…" sighed the consular. He sat down beside Gardenia, sharing the edge of the stage. His hat rested on his knees, both hands clutching it. "I know how badly you want this up and running. So do I. Believe me, I do. This hurts me just as bad as it hurts you, and while I'm sure there are parts to this that I don't understand, just know that this hurts me a great deal. It hurts my pride, my ego. I can only imagine what it's like being the one in charge of this place."

A brief look of surprise flashed through Gardenia. She looked up at the consular, staring at him for a moment before rubbing her eyes with exhaustion, then continuing to stare.

"I get this gut-wrenching feeling whenever I see this place—right about here," said the consular, pointing towards his stomach. "It makes me want to hurl, get it? I get that same feeling whenever I see you, and it's because you look so—so sad. That's a feeling I can't know, the one you're feeling in this. But that's the thing… I saw it before all this… And now it's worse…"

This time, the look of surprise Gardenia had slowly dawned on her. She continued to stare at the consular, almost amused, but still thoughtful.

"I'm only telling you that because I'm concerned. I'm afraid for you. I can only imagine what this does to you. And that's why I want you to listen to me very carefully—listen to everything I'm saying when I say this—"

The consular scooted a bit closer. He put a hand on Gardenia's knee, almost swatting his hand down as he did so, looking very intently at her eyes.

"We need more time. Just give us another day, we'll open in two days… This is going to take a bit more work… And I want you to rest beyond getting yourself physically healthy again. Get yourself mentally healthy."

After a few moments of staring, Gardenia looked down, nodding at the consular's request. She stared down at her feet, shuffling them gently, rubbing the hand over her knee carefully. Mustering the courage, she looked over and smiled at the consular, closing her eyes for a few moments before opening them and staring at the consular's wide, fish-eyed glasses.

Patting her knee again, the consular put his hat on, stepping up and walking back towards the stage, heading towards the back hall.

"Keep the keys, I'll call."


	13. Old Friends

Gardenia couldn't remember the hours that had passed. She stared, looking down into the glossy waters of the clock. After a moment, she sighed, knowing she had overstayed her welcome. The thick sleeve of her jacket slid back with ease, her arm holding it back as to look at her watch. Only 8 PM. Blinking in surprise, Gardenia sat up, legs sore, stepping back up onto the stage, walking to the back hall.

The long ramp down into the back hall was slippery, but most of the water had dried and soaked into the stamped concrete. The emergency lights in the hall seemed brighter in a tighter space, the bright red lights glowing on the white walls where the concrete merged into tile and laminate. Even with the hallway framed with the oncoming ramp to the main room of the gym, the hallway looked destroyed. A pile of rubble had scattered out from left to right, matching the blast pattern of the explosion. There was significantly less graffiti, but centered with the hall and wall was a spray-painted, black outline of a Galactic 'G' with wobbly, dripping lines. Over it, in bright red slashes of graffiti paint, was written 'the worst'.

Gardenia turned almost on a heel, walking away from the destroyed end of the hall, keeping her eyes locked on the ajar back door, staring at the shattered window and the dangling mesh. Her quick, purposeful steps brought her to her office, the wooden door hanging slightly open, glass cracked and hanging precariously in the wooden frame.

The office had been trashed. The cabinet keeping all her files had been tossed forward, the drawers torn from it, papers tossed into a big mixed mess in the center of the floor. The desk had been knocked atop the pile of pages, the insides dumped out in to the space for the chair. Her computer had been smashed, the black plastic box had been pulled from its slot in the desk and tossed to the ground, a plastic side panel kicked in. The monitor had a corner split off of it, about where it had crashed into the back wall when thrown. All the couch cushions had been torn from the couch, and the couch itself had a large, unrecognizable stain over the backrest. All of Gardenia's pictures, portraits, awards and keepsakes had been torn from the wall and fallen into a shattered heap at the bottom of the wall.

A small pencil drawer remained slightly open from the desk. Leaning over, Gardenia pulled the drawer out, fumbling through the contents quickly. Pencils, sticky note packages, markers, paperclips all fell out, and when the drawer was empty, Gardenia looked at the empty package, somewhat distraught. She puffed out her cheeks in thought. Leaning over the desk and into the chair space below where many more supplies had been piled in, Gardenia stepped around the desk and in front of the swivel chair that had formally resided in that space. She kicked the chair aside, sending it rolling along the wall, as she dropped to her knees and looked into the darkened chair space of desk, running her hands through the stacked supplies.

She pulled a small, oblong, gray plastic remote from the inside. She stared at it for a moment, running her fingers over the two rows of square plastic buttons that took up the center of the remote. Stepping around the desk, she stood in front, pointing to the wood-paneled, cabinet-covered back wall. The button in the top left corner, a power emblem engraved into the button, clicked down at the press of a button. A red light blinked at the very top of the remote, registering the button press.

A whirring sound came from deep within the wooden cabinet, a chime registering the command from Gardenia's remote. Several locks released inside the door, then the motors came to life. The oak doors slowly opened, swinging open in front of the other cabinets before coming to a right angle, perpendicular to the cabinets, and then sliding into the darkened opening that they had revealed. A glass, curved monitor rolled forward to the forefront of the cabinet.

The monitor flared to life, the square monitor flashing a gray image of itself as it came on. The simple gray image showed all the dirt and debris that had fallen from above on the front. Moments later, an image came on, white letters on a black background, occasionally fizzling in and out of view on the partially damaged monitor.

'Videophone – Dial: (_) _-_'

At the bottom of the remote, Gardenia hit 'Setup'. The monitor flashed a list of numeric options in place of the 'Videophone' message. Gardenia hit the number corresponding to 'Camera'.

Etched in the crowning of the cabinet, a wood panel slid open to the side quickly, revealing a darkened space, a glassy reflection of light indicating a lens. On the monitor, the screen flashed, a dark image of the room appearing. As it adjusted, Gardenia standing amongst the wreckage appeared on screen, her image heavily influenced by the glow of the monitor. Along the bottom, several more options appeared. A small, white outline appeared around where Gardenia's head and shoulders were on the image, one of the options along the bottom flashing, 'Adjust to Person'. When Gardenia hit it, the image zoomed in, squaring in on her head and shoulders.

Gardenia stepped around the monitor, approaching the cabinet and opening one. A lock had been instituted on one of the doors, and it hadn't been broken in the invasion. When she had used the tiny key with her to open it, she found a lamp that had been knocked over slightly and leaning on the wall, base trapped around the other stored contents. Seeing that it largely hadn't been damaged aside from a few tears in the lampshade, Gardenia pulled it out with ease, coiling up the cable beside it and closing the cabinet door. She leaned the damaged side of the lampshade against the back of the couch, setting the base on the cloth-covered bottom of the couch where the cushions would have been. She hooked in into an outlet between the door and the couch, then clicked it on with success, a warm light coming into the room.

On screen, Gardenia's face seemed to have some more natural lighting, despite some of the wreckage on the back wall. The image seemed less like it was set in a desperate, dire situation, making her seem a bit prettier and a bit more self-confident, like she had it together for a brief moment.

On her remote, she clicked the numeric option for 'Apply'. She then exited the Set Up menu, returning to the Dial screen, staring at the blinking slots for a Videophone number.

A nervous smile appeared on Gardenia's face as she practiced.

* * *

On screen, a small, white, spinning dial took up the center of the screen. After several moments, the screen crackled to life, focusing on the image on the other side of the screen. In the slot in the crown of the cabinet, a small green light lit up beside the camera. A small box with Gardenia's head and shoulders appeared in the bottom right of the monitor, the only image on the dark image. Then, moments later, the image focused in, showing a brightly lit concrete wall, surrounded on all sides by rock. The pure, smooth concrete wall seemed to fill in a cave entrance, it's only edges consisting of rock that created and opening and filled out the other walls. Tall, thick wooden beams reinforced the rock ceilings, and blinding lamps dangled from them.

At the bottom of the screen, something moved slightly. The grayish, plastic paneled desk seemed to blend in with someone's gray jacket as it heaved slightly, adjusting something beneath the video. The video seemed to jump, focusing in and out briefly as a loud pop filled Gardenia's speakers. Ambient voices filled the room, sounds of construction and various background sound came to life.

"Ghha! There it is… Sound!" a voice came through the flat-sounding speakers.

Roarke sat up, looking down as he adjusted himself on a swivel chair. When he looked up, the light caught the lenses in his glasses, a bright white light covering where his eyes were. He hesitated, mouth hanging as he stared. The glare from his glasses dissipated and a pair of surprised eyes appeared.

"Hey Roarke!" Gardenia smiled warmly. Her arms folded, holding her elbows contentedly.

"Gardenia! How is it going, old friend? I hear you hit a rough patch the other day, what happened?"

Gardenia nodded softly. "You should see the gym."

"I didn't see it when it got remodeled, I guess I'm due! Ha ha! Is it really bad?" Roarke asked. His voice dropped off slightly for the question as his unconfidence and worry surfaced.

Shuffling her feet in place, Gardenia stared down thoughtfully, before returning her gaze up to the monitor. Roarke was watching intently at Gardenia's image, a bit of worry in his eyes, before flashing them up to the camera and looking directly at Gardenia.

"It could be better," Gardenia sighed, flashing a smile.

Taking a deep breath, Roarke raised his eyebrows and looked down at his hands. He slid the golden miner's helmet off of his head setting it to the side. Removing his glasses, he leaned back slightly to access his shirt. The bottom edge of his shirt pinched between his fingers, rubbing the lenses of his glasses gently. He then placed them back over his eyes, folding his hands together and resting the lower half of his face on them.

"I got really worried as soon as I heard the news. It sounded really bad. I'm glad you called, I was really thinking about calling, just, well—"

"Couldn't think up a good excuse?" Gardenia chuckled. An inspired look came to her eyes, her smile looking genuine for the first time.

Roarke scratched the back of his head, brushing his long bangs out of his eyes. Through the grainy, washed out camera of the Videophone, Roarke's hair didn't seem the rich maroon color it usually was, instead looking like a muddied dark brown. He took a deep breath and smiled. "I just didn't want to throw one more complication into the mix, take up your time."

Gardenia chuckled again. "You're not a complication," she said reassuringly. "They're closing the gym for another day tomorrow. More 'renovations', I guess you could say. I've got tomorrow off to relax... I was just calling to see if you wanted to come up here for the day, see the town, relax? Catch up?"

Smiling, Roarke looked down and nodded. "Yeah, that sounds great. Haven't done something like that in awhile. I think it'd be good for me too—not that I need to unwind."

"Certainly," said Gardenia.

After a moment, Gardenia leaned herself against the desk, sitting on the lip of it, holding herself to it by wrapping her fingers around the edge. The remote rested between her hand and the table as she gazed down at it and the whole room.

"I probably won't show you the gym," Gardenia chuckled.

"I—I would understand," Roarke chuckled.

Gardenia looked up at the camera. "Did I catch you late?"

Roarke had been staring off into space in thought. His eyes snapped to the camera. He leaned forward, adjusting himself in his chair. "Oh—not really—I was just closing up for the night. Got lots of TV to watch," he chuckled nervously. "You really didn't tear me away from anything, honestly."

"Well, I'll see you for dinner?" asked Gardenia.

Nodding, Roarke scooted his seat back, his arm reaching just past where the monitor could show for the Videophone controls. "Whatever floats your boat," he smiled. "Send me a message whenever. I'll write down what you're thinking."

"Sounds good!"

"Alright, I'll talk to you soon—and Gardenia?"

Gardenia had stood up from the desk, having turned around to steady the desk carefully. Looking over her shoulder, she took a moment, looking over at Roarke.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Is everything okay?"

Without responding, Gardenia quickly nodded, stepping forward and folding her arms. "Yeah… Yeah I'm fine."

"Well… We'll talk about it then?" asked Roarke.

"Yeah…"

After a brief paused, Roarke nodded and smiled. "Alright. Let me know if anything comes up. I'll see you later," he said.

"See ya."


	14. Any Color You Like

Gardenia sat on the edge of the battle platform, rubbing exhaustion from her eyes. Midway through rubbing her eyes, they shut, coupled with a large yawn.

* * *

"— _suffered massive losses in the Team Galactic take over. This is a disaster for not only Eterna City, but for pretty much the whole Sinnoh region, don't you think? Andy?"_

* * *

Between Gardenia's knees, the white thermos felt heavy. Frowning, Gardenia held the neck with one hand, gripping the top and twisting it off with ease. As she lifted the top off, a large cloud of steam rose up and clouded her vision. Gardenia rubbed her eyes again, avoiding the steam that burned her eyes, stifling another yawn. When she opened her eyes, she looked down into the thermos. It was empty.

Something cold touched Gardenia's forehead, parting her hair and pushing her bangs into her eyes. Slowly, Gardenia raised her head to look up and make eye contact with Commander Mars. An icy gasp left her. Her eyes darted up to the cold piece of metal placed to her forehead; a gun.

"Guess who, bitch," said Mars, smiling. She pulled the trigger.

 _ **Bang!**_

* * *

Gardenia awoke with a jolt, immediately sitting up in bed. The sheets that covered her tossed forward and away from her, lumping up towards her ankles. Scrambling, Gardenia quickly pulled herself to the back of her bed, her back stopped by her pillow when it got between her and the wall. She held herself, pulling her knees up to her and tucking her feet beneath the sprawled sheets.

Several seconds of icy silence passed as Gardenia listened to just herself just breathe. Her vision was filled with the darkened wall ahead of her. After a moment, she looked down to her chest, her hand sliding along her neck and down past her collarbone to the top of her chest, her hand pressed to the center space just above her breasts. Her palm pressed, feeling her heart as it raced deep within her at a million beats a second. She closed her eyes, just trying to take deep breaths and end her new sensation of stress. She touched at her face, almost clawing at it at the first touch, feeling how cold it was. She pressed both palms completely to her cheeks, sliding one up to her forehead, feeling the frigid sensation. A cold bead of sweat had formed at her hairline, the pale part that had been protected by her black headband. She put her hands in the lap of her folded legs, closing her eyes and just breathing.

All at once, Gardenia remembered the searing pain in her shoulders, her arms and legs. It welled up inside and burst forth into all of her surrounding limbs. Every part of her body reminded her not to exert herself in the exhausted state she was in, that reminder coming clearer as the adrenaline drained from within her.

Despite her aching back's protests, Gardenia leaned forward, leaning into her lap and staring down, holding her face in her hands. The half-conscious state she was in faded quickly and turned to a sudden alert sensation. She could ignore the pain no longer. Dropping her hands in front of her in defeat, she looked over to the clock: 3:26 AM.

Gardenia scowled, sliding over the edge of the bed, easing her weight onto two feet.

* * *

Down in the living room, Gardenia sat on the couch, staring ahead into space. A hot, soaked towel rested on her shoulders, the last wispy strands of steam having left a long time ago. It soaked the tips of her reddish hair and put beads of moisture on her neck and down her shoulders. The straps of her tank top were soaked. Down below, a wide plastic container was filled with water, and Gardenia's feet soaked in the warm water. A towel and bag of salts rested in a heap beside the makeshift tub. On the table, a hot plate and a cup of nighttime tea steamed, full of creamer and honey.

Just past the tea, an old handheld video camera rested at the edge of the table. Aside from many scattered folders and pieces of paperwork that took up the table from long nights of red tape, it was the only thing taking up any space. The battery pack was missing from the slot on the back and no memory cards were attached to it. The lens cap dangled from the little dark gray cable, the plastic doors shut and facing the couch. The LCD screen door was open and tilted like it was about to record.

Gardenia sat motionlessly and stared at the camera. Her eyes looked dead and expressionless, but they refused to move. After a long moment, Gardenia sat forward and looked into the camera.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked, continuing to stare into the camera. "What's the next step here?"

After several seconds of just staring into the camera, Gardenia slid the towel off of her shoulders. With the moisture on her hands, she combed her fingers up through her hair and brushed her bangs to the side, giving her full view of the camera. Her hair stuck up in slicked strands, slowly falling over her bangs as her hands found their way to her lap. Her eyes remained the same, emotionless gaze as she continued to stare.

"Am I supposed to continue like this? Just wondering what to expect next? Give me a sign, will you? Just something to let me know you're still there. Just something to know you're still thinking about me."

Gardenia sat back, her sore shoulders easing into the back of the couch. The air had dried any stray moisture that had remained on her shoulders; the only thing she hesitated with was the sore, tense muscles that the hot towel had made more sensitive. She continued to look directly into the camera, even as she leaned back. The water sloshed by he ankles as she lifted her feet out of the plastic bin, setting them on the spread towel and stamping them gently. Her eyes darted down for that, making sure they cleared the bin, watching the footprints that appeared in the towel's surface, and then letting them dry on the towel. Her eyes slid back towards the camera to stare directly into it.

"I'm not needy or selfish, this isn't what this is about… And this isn't about what's happened recently… I just know, well, that you've been watching over me, like my guardian angel…" said Gardenia, chuckling lightly at the thought. "And it's nice to watch. It's nice to sit on the sidelines and watch a good story unfold. The honest truth is, however, I've gotten to this chapter in my story, and I don't really know what's on the other side. I don't want to turn the page, start the next chapter, and not know what's going to happen."

Even resting back where she did, Gardenia slid her head into her hands, covering her face and rubbing her eyes gently.

"I know I have to make a decision, and to be frank, I'm really afraid of that decision. I know that there isn't a clear outcome. I don't know that this story is going to turn out like every one I know, that there's a resolution by the end…"

Gardenia swallowed, looking down.

"Because, I know that I want you here for the rest of the story. I don't want this part of the story to end, even if it's moving that way. I want you here for more of it, and more importantly, I want you to be here for it."

Gardenia sat forward, grabbing her cup of tea and a TV remote from a shelf beneath the coffee table.

"So what's the next step here?"

Scowling, Gardenia clicked the TV on, letting the bluish light fill the darkened room, the noise filling her imagination.


	15. Everything to Everyone

Gardenia's eyes shot open, a ringing sensation filling her head. The knitted surface of the couch filled her vision, lit by the sunlight. She felt warmth in her hair, like every strand on the back of her head had absorbed it. The warmth tingled down her back, down past where her blanket covered her body and kept inside the warm enclosure of the blanket. Her hazel eyes darted up and down the knitted expanse of the couch's back, her well-rested body refusing to move from where it was neatly nestled on the bowing cushions. Taking a deep inhale filled her senses with a smoky smell that came from the couch, gross and comforting all at once. Her eyes fluttered, adjusting to her surroundings, then squinting as a sound wormed it's way into her ear.

* * *

 _"Sunnyshore is going to open up! That's what they say at least."_

 _"That's right! Isn't it strange when we're waiting for a whole city to open up? Gosh, didn't think I'd ever get to say that in my field. Pretty strange, don't you think?"_

 _"It is! Definitely the strangest story I've had the good fortune to review all month! I'd say even all year!"_

 _"Indeed, and we'll get to it in a second, but first I'd like turn it over to—Hello! Welcome guys! Welcome to Sinnoh Sunrise! We're just so glad to have you on the show with us on this lovely morning. How about you guys show the good people out their what you have to show them!"_

 _"Thank you! We've got a bit of Hoenn fashion for you all today—I know we usually do Kalos things on here—but this you've got to see!"_

 _"Hoenn fashion! That's different!"_

* * *

Slowly, Gardenia rolled in place on the couch, careful not to roll off of it. She slid the blanket out from under her several times, finding a comfortable spot to rest on the couch so that she rested on her side. Her head nestled itself into the armrest of the couch and she pulled the blanket up to her chin, squinting to look at the TV as she faced a direct beam of sunlight.

On TV, a studio set zoomed into view, moving past the two hosts and squaring in on a box a well-dressed woman was holding. The glossy white paper lid slid off of the box the woman was holding, taking a moment to put the lid to the side off camera. The matching white tissue paper hung out slightly, then the well-dressed woman tilted the box back slightly, lifting layers of tissue paper and exposing a pair of glossy, camo green stilettos. A white footer appeared at the bottom of the screen, describing the stilettos as 'Tropical Storm by Marx'.

* * *

 _"Good lord! Those look military grade."_

 _"Hee hee! You won't be taking any hills with these!"_

 _"They might take a few prisoners, yow!"_

* * *

Gardenia gazed up to the wall behind the TV silently, looking to a clock on the wall. '11:03 AM'.

* * *

As Nurse Joy pulled up a plastic pan by the handles and set it on the front counter, she gave Gardenia a reassuring smile, who leaned at the front counter, watching with more than healing on her mind. She quickly pulled the reading glasses from her eyes, folding the arms in and sliding it carefully into the plastic and aluminum enclosure, then tucking it into her apron-fronted skirt.

"I apologize for the delay, and thank you very much for your patience! Your Pokemon will be ready in just a few moments, okay?" said Nurse Joy, bowing slightly to Gardenia at the front counter. She then turned, briefly looking over her shoulder at the status monitor above the front counter where it indicated the progress and some basic information about Gardenia's party. Her attention turned to a small computer monitor to the side, where a keyboard was hidden beneath the counter. She quickly opened a new case log, writing down basic information about Gardenia's visit, and updating when she had performed brief maintenance on the healing bed.

Gardenia nodded sagely, adjusting her stance back slightly and watching the monitor. A bottle-colored jacket clung to her arms, covering her hands with the large size. In small, white knitted lettering on the left breast of the jacket, it read 'Eterna Forest Commission'. On the right, in identical fashion, it read 'Ranger'. She kept the jacket open, wearing the same low-cut sweater she always did, but it didn't replace the same feel of her traditional parka, despite having the same forest patch on her shoulder.

A chime of completion came from the healing bed. The glass doors slid open and deep into their housing as a small puff of steam lifted from the inside of the main healing chamber. The smell of burnt silicone and dust covered the front counter but the air remained clear. The Pokeballs vibrated once, one by one, individually sounding that they were at full power.

Nurse Joy lifted the tray by its handles at the far end of each side, stepping over to the healing bed. The tray slid onto her outstretched arm as her other arm reached into the heated bed, lifting out the Pokeballs one by one, carefully pulling them out with her rubber glove covered hands. She slid them into the plastic slots, then, as she grabbed the handles at either side, she pressed one of the many plastic pastel buttons on the edge of the healing bed, and started a cleaning cycle. She then passed the tray onto the counter, setting it before Gardenia.

"Thank you for waiting. We've restored your Pokemon to full health. We hope to see you again!"

"Thanks nurse, have a good one." Smiling, Gardenia lifted the bag she had rested along the bottom of the counter so that the opening faced the plastic tray. She pulled the Pokeballs from the plastic tray one at a time, sliding them into the same black mesh bag from before. When she got to Turtwig's Pokeball, she slid it onto the first empty slot of her gym-issue utility belt, then sealed her bag and slit the tray forward. She eyed Nurse Joy as she finished up her log at the computer, then slung her bag over her shoulder with just the one strap, stepping away from the counter and walking towards the waiting area.

Hunched over, Roark fumbled with his Poketch, tapping through pages of apps, occasionally looking up to watch a rerun of the fishing tournament on TV. Beside him, his drawstring bag slumped over the ottoman-like seat cushion, packed for the evening. As soon as Gardenia entered the corner of his vision, his head snapped to attention, a smile on his face. Without looking he grabbed his drawstring bag, sliding the thin straps over his elbows and onto his shoulders in a single motion.

"Ready?"

Gardenia took a breath and swallowed contemplatively, reaching for the Pokeball on her utility belt. The clip released, dropping into the Pokeball the palm of her hand with a satisfactory smack. She hit the release with a swipe of her finger, shooting the laser light onto the ground where Turtwig materialized, no longer afflicted by the revival sickness. With a great sense of loyalty, he quickly scrambled up to her side, and with that comforting sight Gardenia turned her attention to Roark.

Roark too had watched Turtwig's scrambling motions with a smile, and he kept the smile and looked up at Gardenia with a spark of inspiration in his eyes.

"Sorry m'lady, you'll have to pack him back up. We can't walk where we're going," said Roark, pulling out a Pokeball from his same gym-issue utility belt in a much snappier movement, nearly launching the Pokeball into his hand. He kept his cocky smile as he turned, heading to the sliding door of the Pokemon Center.

The smile dropped from Gardenia's lips, replaced with confusion, and then shock. "Wait, what?"


	16. Battleground

Roark let out a thrilled grunt, tucking his leg up towards his hips and sliding off the feathered back of Staravia. Though slow at first, Roark slid very quickly off of Staravia, his boots crunching into the gravel as he landed on one foot, then hopped onto both feet. An excited energy seemed to shoot through all of his limbs as he stretched quickly, hopping around on two feet as his blood started to return to both his legs and arms. A thin, black ski cap hugged his head, pulling his hair from his eyes. Roark pulled the ski cap from his head and let his hair fall forward in wisps, then running his fingers through the maroon-colored mess and pulling it over his head and tucking it behind his ears. He wiped the fogged glass surface of his glasses with his shirt, then placed them back onto his face, gazing up at Gardenia.

"You still amaze me sometimes, you know? I'm real impressed you would fly with me," said Roark, a cocky smile on his lips as he walked towards the tail end of Staravia.

Limply, Gardenia slid back, her fingers releasing where they had deeply knotted into Staravia's feathers, the area sticking up in clumps. Landing on both feet was a difficult task, as her legs had turned to jelly, and as she had squatted low when she landed. A deep groan came from her as her legs gave out, and she sat down on the gravel in exhaustion. She finally took a deep inhale of the salty sea air, a bit of color returning to her face.

As her head tilted down, her gaze facing her lap as long, winded breaths came from her mouth, Gardenia cleared her throat with a wet, squelching sound. "Do you have any idea when the last time I flew was?"

Roark chuckled. He had squatted down briefly where he stood, several feet off from where Gardenia had collapsed. Pinched between thumb and forefinger, he looked at a piece of gravel, turning it over between his fingers, gazing at the nicked gray surface. After tucking it into his palm, chucking it far over into the tall grass, Roark let out a snort, gazing down and over at Gardenia, hat clutched in a knotted mess in his hand.

"No clue," answered Roark.

"Well," Gardenia swallowed, a lump rising in her throat, "I hate it, so it's been awhile." She spat in the space in her lap, coating a patch of rocks with her saliva.

"And you don't ever get out because of it, right?" A knowing smile crossed Roark's face.

After taking a few, heavy, drawn out breaths, Gardenia looked over and up at Roark, an irritated look in her tired eyes.

Chuckling, Roark walked over to Gardenia with a careful feeling in his steps. He tucked his cap into his pocket, the black folds sticking out of his work pants, walking over to where Gardenia sat in the moonlight. He stooped over, a slightly false apologetic look in his eyes as he sighed, offering her his hand.

Gardenia grunted, taking Roark's hand and quickly being lifted to her feet, where her legs found their strength immediately as they needed it. She continued to breathe heavily, adjusting her footing as she panned her head around, gazing at her surroundings in the fresh moonlight.

They stood on a grassy hillside overlooking a dense, tropical forest. Just beyond the long stretch of forest a shore could be seen, and the black mass of Sinnoh loomed. Where Roark, Staravia and Gardenia stood, the hillside leveled off, and a large outcropping of gravel had been set down as sort of a platform. Few facilities had been set up, as where the flattened gravel area ended on the opposite end of the hillside was a tall, muddied cliff of dirt that rose and had been topped with patches of grass that led into a very healthy lawn. Beyond what the trio could see, there was light coming from atop the wall of dirt and mud, but they couldn't see where the source came from. A staircase cut through the center of the dirt cliff traveling from the gravel platform up to the top of the cliff, a strand of electrical mining lights leading up on either side of the wood-braced wall.

"Funny," said Roark, taking the same Pokeball from earlier off his utility belt, adjusting it in his hand. His gaze shifted from the Pokeball and over to Gardenia. "I didn't think you'd be up for any battles tonight, but, I mean, I can't imagine you healed up your Pokemon for any reason other than wanting to, right?"

Gardenia's brow furrowed. She walked stiffly, approaching where Roark stood a good few feet away from the hillside's edge. "Maybe I like to have a party in case something happens. Old gym leader instincts kick in eventually, right?" she smiled.

As he thought about it, Roark raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement and agreement, clicking the release on his Pokeball and retrieving Staravia. He then pocketed the Pokeball on his utility belt, making a slow trek towards the staircase, turning his back when he heard Gardenia's crunching footsteps behind him.

"Where are you taking me, mister?" Gardenia said, the playfulness in her tone masked by exhaustion.

"Battleground. Figured it'd be a welcome break for you," smiled Roark, halfway up the wood-braced steps, the warm glow of the lights shadowing his body.

Stopping dead in her tracks at the base of the stairs, Gardenia looked down at the ground, processing what Roark had just said. Her hand rested on the iron pipe staircase banister, one foot on a step above her other foot. She breathed, looking up in almost betrayal at Roark, furrowing her brow.

Roark had heard her stop walking, and paused himself, turning to look at Gardenia, stepping down gently so that he turned to face her. Seeing the confused look on Gardenia's eyes, Roark scowled under his breath, taking a few steps down.

Gardenia took the last few steps up Roark steadily, moving slowly and carefully as the same exhaustion returned to her legs. She stopped once again when she finished the last few steps until she reached the same step as Roark. She turned, stepping with one leg up on the step above Roark and her right foot, crossing her arms, looking at Roark like she was expecting an answer.

A grimace crossed Roark's expression. His lips twisted as he struggled to start the conversation he knew was coming, instead taking a moment to put both his hands on the pipe behind him. He leaned back on the banister, feet slightly kicked up and legs as straight as beams. He then looked up at her.

"What's your fear of this place?" asked Roark. "Whatever it is, I'm sure I don't get it."

"You know I don't care for it. Can you respect that?" Gardenia fired back.

"I can."

"You even said it yourself, 'didn't think you were up for a battle'." Gardenia tilted her head inquisitively. "Why are you taking me to battle my heart out? Huh?"

Roark blinked, raising his brow and then rubbing it with a finger.

"Don't give me that," said Gardenia, leaning over slightly to see if Roark's eyes were truly closed or if he was squinting, making sure he could see the fire in her eyes.

Throwing his hand down in exhaustion, letting it limply find the banister behind him and support him against it, Roark sighed, looking down at his boots. "I didn't take you for a battle. I took you for drinks. It's a bar for gym leaders, for Arceus sake. They don't just battle here," said Roark.

"So, you want to us to get shit-faced before flying back to mainland? Is that your genius plan?"

"No, I—" Roark sighed. "I got a place to stay for the night. I was going to get us up early in the morning… Separate rooms, Arceus…" Roark added after a particularly dirty look from Gardenia.

Scowling, raising her eyebrows, Gardenia looked down solemnly, then lifted her head back to look to the night sky. Far from the city or any built-up civilization, the night sky shone brightly with a scattering of twinkling stars, flashing their bright white flashes of light on a cosmic blue nebulae of light in the sky. A cool, excited breath escaped her lungs, a light smile curling through her cheeks as she considered the atmosphere around her, the salty sea air blowing in on brisk night breeze.

Taking a deep snort of air, a burning exhaustion rose through Roark's eyes, making his eyes water from a lack of sleep. Despite this, he continued to stare at Gardenia, thinking solemnly.

"What would make you happiest now?" asked Roark.

Looking to Roark, Gardenia smiled slyly. "To get shit-faced, of course. It's a beautiful night for it."


	17. The Truth

The old wood panels in the bar made the place seem like it was completely carved out of the tree, providing the same smell as though everyone were in one. The smell of sap permeated the walls, and close to the tables that lined the whole inner space of the bar clung the smell of cigarettes, salted peanuts and spilled beer. The plush carpet was a deep maroon color, striped with lines just a shade darker to create an ornate, Victorian-style pattern that was just barely noticeable in the dim lighting. Overhead, thin lights seemed to strike through the hazy air like pinholes, painting yellowish streaks and lighting only key areas, casting the whole room in a kind of warmth. Though the place was fairly full, the conversations remained low murmurs, providing ample sound space for the slow, old blues music that came from an old speaker behind the bar.

At the door, a tall wood-slatted panel at least suggested a barrier between the entrance and the rest of the bar. A young man fished around with a book as he leaned on the wood-slatted panel, watching the door, standing beside a sign that read 'Battling Floor Open'.

"Look man, she'll be around. I'm not up for it either tonight, alright?" said Roark. His tone tried to remain as diplomatic as possible, but he couldn't mask his frustration. After rubbing his eyes habitually, Roark stepped past the young woman he was talking to, stepping past the wood-slatted panel and nodding to the man at the front as if he had listened to the whole thing.

The young woman sat up and stared, making an uncomfortable eye contact as she tucked away the armful of Pokeballs she had shown Roark when they first arrived. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of shame and longing, as she eventually looked past Gardenia and stared at the young man resting on the wood-slatted panel. When he nodded, she quickly scattered off, heading to the elevated portion on the right side of the bar, where it turned into more of a restaurant.

Sliding the bottle green jacket over her arms, Gardenia followed Roark towards the wide gap between the bar and the neatly lined row of glass-topped square tables, where trainers and even gym leaders sat. She folded the jacket over and wrapped the sleeves around the main body, tucking it under her arm, walking steadily after Roark. She adjusted the low cut sweater, ensuring that it covered enough of her exposed white navel and kept the underlining of her bra hidden, adjusting the tall tube-like neck of it so that the itching stopped. As she did, her eyes scanned the place, eyeing some of the trainers who stared at her and whispered in hushed tones. The few gym leaders that were there stared up silently; she made a particularly long, uncomfortable eye contact with Crasher Wake, who continued to drink a tall glass of red wine.

"M'lady?" Roark asked, gesturing with his hands to the open barstool when they had reached the far end of it. The same cocky grin had returned, this time his eyes filled with a bit more background to them, a bit more understanding for Gardenia.

Smiling uncomfortably, Gardenia stepped between the empty barstool and one that had been filled with a patron. Her hand felt beneath the bar, finding the old brass coat hook and slipping her jacket's collar onto the hook. Rolling the heel of her palm along the glossy wood surface of the bar, Gardenia levied herself onto the leather barstool, sinking into the chewed up seat, both her feet finding the brass banister beneath it. There was a sense of comfort Gardenia felt at the bar, but she didn't show it, instead folding her arms down into her lap and pinching them between her legs. Her eyes gazed up at the mirrored walls, ignoring hers and Roark's reflection and instead staring up at the shelf that had been built into the margins of the wood frame, lined with bottles of every size and shape, some shiny and new and some old and hammered. For each bottle, a different kind of liquid—a different kind of alcohol—of every kind of color, viscosity and darkness that filled them. Rows of identical glasses lined the very bottom cabinet.

Roark slid into the stool with a lot less effort, almost hopping onto it. His legs swung after tucking themselves to the old brass pole that they had been built into, the soles of his thick mining boots clanged against the footrest built into the oaken structure. His gloved knuckles rapped on the wood surface of the bar, getting the attention of the balding barkeep.

On the inside of his stone gray jacket, Roark fished into the many small pockets and pouches, pulling out an aluminum billfold. He fished out several neatly stacked bills, flattening them to the bar surface and sliding the to the edge, the paper bills leafing over the edge when the balding barkeep reached Roark. "Chuckie—Jack and Coke for me," he smiled, nodding at the barkeep.

After slipping the bills between his fingers, stacking them into a neat pile on the counter beneath the bar surface, Chuckie smiled and nodded back at Roarke, then turning his attention to Gardenia, raising his eyebrows and turning his ears to her.

Gardenia's mouth hung open, continuing to stare at the bottles up above. When her eyes descended down to Chuckie, himself hanging on Gardenia's word, she closed her hanging jaw, puffing up her cheeks in thought. Her fingers drummed uncomfortably at an uneven, off-beat pace.

Filling the air gap of silence, Roark smiled nervously, folding his hands together on the surface of the bar as he leaned close to Chuckie. Before he spoke, he reached over, putting his hand atop Gardenia's and effectively stopped the long, awkward drumming. As soon as he did, Gardenia shook her hand free of his, nearly instantly ending it as she tucked her hands between her knees once again. Roark watched as Gardenia took in a shuddering, embarrassed gasp of air through her nose, nostrils flaring dramatically, then as her head turned off to the side, away from both Chuckie and Roark.

Sighing, Roark put on the same awkward smile, looking up at Chuckie's even worse state of discomfort as he too met eyes with Roark, looking for a proper response to what they had both seen.

"Just—Just give us a moment, alright?" Roark sighed.

"Jack and Coke, got it," Chuckie quickly nodded. He then whipped around and reached down behind him for a heavy-bottomed glass, then dashed off to the far end of the bar where the short and long end met, and rounded the corner.

As Chuckie made his mad dash for Roark's drink, Roark twiddled his thumbs, and then decidedly removed the straps from his white and gray gloves, wrestling his hands free of them. On the inside of his jacket, a small loop of fabric had been sewn in, and Roark looped the straps of his gloves on the inside, hanging them like his own coat rack. He gave a quick gaze to the rest of the bar, all whose patrons were minding his or her own business, and he put a hand on Gardenia's shoulder. His hand massaged a soft portion of her shoulder through the sweater, his thumb smoothing out a crease between the shoulder portions of her the tube-like part of her neck.

"I should've asked to wait," said Roark. He leaned close to the bar, his folded hands dangling off the bar edge, elbow going off the other edge as his arm rested. Tilting his head, he could see where Gardenia stared to the ground, almost dumbstruck.

"What the hell was that?" asked Gardenia.

As Roark processed that, hiding his surprise, a slamming broke his focus. His arm leapt as he pulled himself upright steadily, blinking and looking over with tired eyes as Chuckie lifted the whiskey glass he had slammed onto the bar surface, adjusting the wrinkled napkin he had placed beneath it. He mouthed a sorry as Roark looked up with the surprise he could no longer hide, and continued when Roark nodded respectively. He watched as Chuckie popped the tab on a nearby frosty can of Coke, pouring half of it over the whiskey stone in the center of the glass, rolling it slightly as the foamy beverage mixed with the amber liquid already inside.

Gardenia's attention had turned as she watched Chuckie pour the Coke can carefully, almost hypnotized by the balancing act of pouring the fizzling cola-colored drink in without causing too much of it to foam up in the frosty glass. The sound of the whiskey stone popping softly lulled her ears as she looked up at Roark, watching the gears spin in his head. Hunched over as she was, she looked down at the dark and glossy surface of the bar, inches from her chin. She rubbed her palms together in thought.

"It's not about the drinks," said Gardenia, almost teasingly as she offered the hint.

Giving a flat grimace, Roark thought, gazing as the final touch was being applied to his drink; the airplane-style red plastic stir stick, tucked between the whiskey stone and the glass's lip. A separate napkin was laid flat, setting the Coke can beside the glass. He then rubbed his brow with one hand, then reached down and stirred the drink, watching the whiskey stone knock against the glass walls.

"'Why is Gardenia mad at me', my favorite game," Roark replied dryly, leaning back slightly and pulling the red stir stick from his drink, shaking it off behind him before resting it along the edge of the Coke can's napkin. He lifted the beverage, bringing it to his lips, staring around him less to admire the décor and more to think. He then tilted his head back slightly with the drink, taking a small sip. The glass rested back in it's familiar ring of moisture that had soaked into the napkin. Roark gasped slightly as the burn had initially came and sent a warmth through his throat, before the sweet Coke came and washed the feeling away.

Gardenia looked down at the bar, gazing at the reflections from the pinhole lights that were strung above the bar surface. A tired expression bore through her eyes as she contemplated them, and then sighed. "I guess I'm not sure why you told that lady off in the entrance," she said. "The one who wanted a battle, I assume?"

Before taking another sip of his drink, Roark furrowed his brow, giving Gardenia a look of confusion. He set the drink back down in the ring on the napkin, folding his hands together once again. "Wait wait wait, hold the phone. You said weren't looking for a battle tonight? Isn't that what I heard? That's why you were mad at me earlier?"

"Yeah, you won that guessing match, in your favorite 'game'," Gardenia chuckled slyly, her eyes hypnotized by the rising bubbles of Coke in the murky amber liquid. The hypnotic effect broke, her eyes briefly trailing as Roark lifted the glass for another sip, then her gaze returned the soaked napkin, herself looking past it.

"Heh, believe me, no one wins 'why is Gardenia mad'."

A deep snort of air ran through Gardenia's nostrils. She blinked away her exhaustion, sitting up in her stool. Beneath the bar, her legs uncrossed and planted firmly in the brass bar footrest. Like Roark, she too folded her hands together atop the bar's surface, twiddling her thumbs fast and uncomfortably. Moments passed, and so did the bit of frustration Gardenia was experiencing. She looked up from her thumbs as they slowed their twiddling, instead gazing up at the mirror, at her reflection. Her hair was slightly messy, bangs slicked together in sweat, some of the ones that had been dyed black sticking in front of her naturally auburn ones, but there was something interesting about it. Her hazel eyes looked tired, but that didn't stop them from looking like they were full of life. Her face was pale, and she too felt the cold on them, but it made her look somewhat sober. Beside her, Roark looked to her with concern, very much like he was listening, no longer trying to act playfully.

"What's going on, Gardenia?"

Gardenia ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing up her bangs softly. Her reflection seemed hazy in distant in the polished bar surface, and warped as her gaze trailed towards Roark. Finally, she looked up at Roark, putting her hand deep through her hair like it combed through it as she stared.

"I just… Yes, I really don't want to battle anyone tonight… That hasn't changed…" said Gardenia, a look of defeat in her eyes. "I just didn't want to put anyone out, y'know? I came to a place where it very obviously looks like I'm coming to battle… And then making people look stupid when they ask me… Y'know?"

Roark stared for several seconds past when Gardenia had stopped explaining herself, then tilted his head and squinted, letting out a sigh. He stared deep into the eyes that looked at him, expecting a reply for what she had said, expecting some kind of validation. He didn't give it to her, instead sighing and hanging his head, shaking it slightly as a quiet chuckle let him.

"Honestly Gardenia, I do not get you," said Roark. After a moment, he lifted his head, staring at Gardenia, a sense of desperation in his eyes. "You're upset because of how I did it? Because—gosh…" Roark proceeded to stare off into space, dumbstruck, mouth agape as he might reply, but when he looked back to Gardenia, he closed it, shaking his head as he stared at her. He shut his eyes, raising his eyebrows, then proceeding to rub them.

"You made me a promise," said Gardenia.

"That's—" Roark started, then he held out a finger to Gardenia. He shook his head lightly, regaining control of his temper. "Don't do that. Don't twist what I said. Just—please don't do that…" he sighed. He ran his fingers through his hair, slicking back the maroon mess over his ears and holding it back for a moment. He looked up into her eyes after a moment, knowingly pushing forward with the conversation. "I said I wasn't taking you to battle and that wouldn't happen. I kept my word. I very much intend to keep it."

Gardenia stared flatly at Roark, matching his eyes with a cold front. After a moment, she raised her eyebrows as if to suggest 'And?'.

As Roark went to reply, he felt a presence over his shoulder, and he let his eyes wander to the side. Chuckie had returned, the iconic square bottle of the 'Jack' portion of Roark's drink in hand. The cap came off of the bottle with a stiff jerking motion from Chuckie's hand, then he rested it on the bar counter beside the napkin and whiskey glass. He filled the drink up with an adequate amount of liquor. He set the bottle down without placing the cap back on, grabbing the Coke can and filling in an equally small portion. He wavered in the area for a second, minding his own business but wishing to remain close as indicated by his movements.

Roark's gaze returned to Gardenia's, as hers hadn't changed a bit. "And you can't be afraid of pissing people off. You're a public figure who's off the clock. People don't own you. You're not that ugly statue next to the lake in Eterna City."

Hanging her head in slight defeat, Gardenia nodded softly. She then returned her gaze up to Roark, looking down at his chin blankly. "It's not an ugly statue," she replied.

Roark let out a chuckle. He came alongside the bar as he saw Gardenia's posture relax beside him, sitting up as well, a wide smile on his lips. He gaze up at Chuckie, who was still waiting. Grasping for his drink, he lifted the drink in a thankful gesture, then took a slow sip.

Blinking, then having his face twist up as if to ask a question, Chuckie found himself staring at Gardenia for answers. The satisfied smile on Gardenia's lips took him even further aback, but when he looked to Roark he was wearing the same expression and staring up at him as well. He then simply looked down, scratching the shaved scalp of his head with his gloves, then put both hands on the edge of the bar and leaned on it.

Gardenia leaned forward, reaching for her jacket and lifting it onto her lap. She untucked where she had folded the arms, sliding the jacket along her belly until she found the lower portion of the jacket where her pocket had zipped up. The metal, long wallet tucked in her jacket came out and rested on the bar, rocking softly on the lacquered surface with a metallic clang and rattle. She pulled the jacket over her lap so that it rested a bit more comfortably, then undid the metal latch on the wallet, prying apart the unzipped fabric-lined pouch that had her ID on top. The stacked bills inside were neat, but dirty and unused, and they stuck together slightly when she pulled them out. She peeled a few bills apart, stuffed them disorderly into the pouch in the wallet and placed about $600 on the bar counter surface. Flattening them with her fingers, she slid them over to the edge in perfect imitation of Roark.

"Surprise me," said Gardenia, the thin smile on her lips turning more genuine by the moment.

Chuckie furrowed his brow, tilting his head as if he were taken aback by the request. "Surprise you with what?"

Sliding the metal, long wallet around so that the lid put a barrier between herself and Chuckie's vision, Gardenia slid the loose bills from her wallet back into the pouch so that they laid flat inside, and neglected to zip the pouch back up. The latch found it's way back into its catch on the edge of the wallet, sealing it with a click. She then slid it back into her jacket pocket, zipping it back up and hanging it, quicker this time that she knew where everything was. She then folded her hands and leaned against the bar, looking at the money and then up at Chuckie.

"Well, $600 worth of surprise, I'd hope," Gardenia chuckled, sliding the bills forward again to catch Chuckie's attention.

Chuckie quickly snatched up the bills, going to stack them on the counter just below the bar counter like he had before, but then realized they were already stuck together in a perfectly ordered stack, the numbers just slightly leafing out from one another to clear things up for him visually. After nodding in acknowledgement, he did the same hustle down to the corner of the two bars, and then around the corner.

Wiping his lips, Roark let out a laugh, staring off into space where Chuckie had just been. He turned his gaze to Gardenia with a giddy smile, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"I thought I was paying for drinks tonight," asked Roark, a hint of annoyance in the question. Holding his drink, he stared down into it, looking at the whiskey stone as the formerly perfect sphere wobbled as the liquid shifted around it, a large imperfection exposed in the ice as it had melted. He took a drink, facing Gardenia as he did, eye poking around the glass as he took his long draw.

Giggling, Gardenia reached past Roark, picking up the half-empty Coke can, letting the cool condensation run over her palms as she pulled it close. She pulled it once to her lips, curling around the metal edge and sucking up a bit of cola that had collected on the rim. She then took a long sip, taking a moment to let it fizzle on her tongue as the sweet, sugary taste sank in, and then she swallowed with a satisfied gasp of air.

"If that's what you thought, you're slower than Chuckie," chuckled Gardenia.

* * *

Chuckie finished off the finishing touches to Gardenia's drink, a tall cone of whipped cream topping the drink in the same, short whiskey glass as Roark's drink. The comparatively rigid, airy body of the foam topping the drink overlapped with the frothy cream of half-and-half laced with alcohol, the mixed beverage that filled the glass and splashed up against the glass walls of the cup, a thin rim of tan-colored liquid dripping over the edge. Thin, dark outlines pressed up against the edge of the glass, the crushed ice wafting in and out of view through the creamy contents. All around the margins of the napkin and the surrounding wood surface of the bar, white flecks of whipped cream had sprayed, joining the runny mess that ran over the drink.

Stepping back slightly to get a good, solid look at the drink, Chuckie gave the long metal tube of whipped cream a good shake, flexing the finger that hovered over the nozzle. When he stepped forward to add more to the drink, he gave a brief look up to Gardenia, and then the drink.

"More whipped cream?" asked Chuckie. His voice was thin and scratchy, ineffective at reaching over the loud volumes the main house of the bar was providing at that exact moment.

Gardenia laughed, continuing to stare wide-eyed at the beverage. After scratching her scalp uneasily, she placed a hand on the edge of the bar, tilting down to look at the drizzling creamy beverage as it overflowed slightly. With a finger, she ran the tip along the drizzling edge, lifting a good amount of the creamy, cool substance on her fingertip, then sticking the finger straight-away in her mouth. Her reaction was instant, eyebrows raising and more laughter coming from her as the sweet hit her taste buds.

"I think I just need a spoon," she smiled, looking up at Chuckie somewhat excitedly as she placed the finger back into her mouth and tasted the dry, smoky-flavored drink. She looked at her finger briefly, contemplating the red tip of skin that had cooled on contact, then looking back down at the drink.

Down below the counter, Chuckie had squatted, fumbling with the reflective, chromatic icebox that was housed in the counter-top. The handle moved a little easier than it had before, the warmth of his grip still on it as it had shaken loose the usually frozen latch that was housed within the door. He swung the door a quarter of the way open, setting the metal tube of whipped cream on it's side on the top shelf, then hesitated. Looking down at the back of the shelf lay an iron shaker, an old piece of tape on it labeling it 'Chocolate'.

Chuckie popped up to the front of the counter. On the production counter, a freshly cleaned silver spoon had been set, and he set it up on the table beside Gardenia's drink. He then put on a smile, and then realized he needed a more inquisitive face.

"The order—'recipe', I guess—calls for chocolate shavings on top. I'm… Thinking you don't want that?" asked Chuckie. A bit of hesitation filled the gaps between words, even the artificial ones he made with syllables. His gaze almost avoided Gardenia, but he continued to stare for an answer.

Gardenia laughed throatily, putting on the same wide smile, her eyes lighting up as they looked between him and the drink. She shook her head, folding her fists together beneath her chin and staring up at Chuckie.

"This is fine—More than fine," said Gardenia. "Thank you very much for this! I'm impressed you kept this under $600. You'll have to tell me your secret."

"Well, I didn't," Chuckie said sheepishly, rubbing his arm as he stared down at the drink and Gardenia. "You owe me $1100, actually. In addition."

The smile on Gardenia's lips hung for mere seconds, before fading into a mixture of confusion and disgust, despite her best efforts to hide her disgust. Furrowing her brow, Gardenia adjusted herself in her seat, throwing down the arms that supported her chin and folding them together quickly on the bar seat. Her cheeks puffed up in thought as they always did, filling the uncomfortable space for thought as Gardenia stared off into space, hunting for the right reply. She then turned her attention to Chuckie, opened her mouth to reply, and—

"Gotcha," Chuckie smiled, still sheepishly. After a brief, lingering silence that finished out the punch line, Chuckie drummed his hands on the bar counter-top, then headed off towards other patrons of the bar, giving a small nod and twirl of the hand in a slight bow as he gazed up to Gardenia, watching her as he stepped away and returned to his duties.

A look appeared on Gardenia's eyes that could only be described as 'stumped'. She shrugged it off almost instantaneously. One of her hands combed through her hair as she gazed down at the drink, and another felt for the spoon beside the drink, poising it between her fingers as she examined the tall, billowy cone of whipped cream, the interior already starting to sink into the creamy liquid. She looked down at where the edges of the whipped cream leaked over, seeing that white cloudy swirls had formed inside the beverage as the cream lost its form. Raising her brow in a quick motion with a slight acceptance, she gazed over at Roark, nodding to the drink.

Roark stared blankly, a smile on his lips from the thoughts running through his head. When he felt Gardenia's gaze upon him, he snapped from the hypnotic state, looking down at her and grinning even wider. With the look on Gardenia's face, his smile temporarily faltered, and concern flashed through his eyes as he considered all the things he should be worried about. He leaned forward, looking around the group of people his back faced and down through the dimly lit corridor of the back of the bar, staring at where Chuckie was presently working. He then quickly turned his attention back to Gardenia with a quizzical look on his brow.

"What?" asked Roark, finally stopping the guesswork for what was on Gardenia's face.

Gardenia nodded over to the drink once again. Widening her eyes, she then nodded forward, tilting to the side and looking at Chuckie. When she accidentally caught her attention, the practiced, wide smile appeared, herself holding out her hand and waggling her fingers at him, then looking back at Roark.

"What do you make of that?' asked Gardenia, her practiced smile turning less giddy, a bit more sly, paired with a curious glint in her eyes.

Shaking his head slightly as a sign of his doubts, Roark sighed, staring at a smudge in the glossy bar surface. His knuckles rubbed out the smudge slightly as if to give himself something to do as he thought. His eyebrows shot up as he thought and gazed down at the smudge. He shook his head slightly again, then cleared his throat. "There's nothing wrong with Chuckie. He's a good guy. My father trusted him enough to place him in station here because he thought he was charming enough for the general populace but charming enough for a gym leader to—y'know—" Roark opened his hand and showed his open hand as if he were revealing something, "—blow off steam with. He's a good guy."

Doubtful, Gardenia raised an eyebrow, her gaze turning to her drink. With the spoon pinched between her fingers, she held it aloft at a plane through the center of the cone of whipped cream that topped her drink. She then carved off the top of the whipped cream, catching it in her spoon. A pocket of grainy air bubbles revealed themselves in the clean-cut surface of the whipped cream, and Gardenia took a moment to admire the perfect slice she had made, though she had less than admiration in her eyes, instead staring blankly, her mind elsewhere.

"He certainly seems nice," said Gardenia. Pausing, she chuckled after a moment, eyeing Roark slightly. "He certainly has taste in drinks."

Roark matched her chuckle with a dry version of his own, staring off out into the windows in the wall opposite the bar, staring out at the thin slats and gazing at the starry night sky, his eyes dipping down to gaze at the patrons of the restaurant.

"Is he not charming enough for you?" asked Roark, a hint of joking and a hint of seriousness behind the question.

Gardenia pulled the spoon from her lips, the spoon clean except for a few white streaks through the blurred, mirrored surface of the spoon. Despite the airy, almost empty space that the whipped cream took up, the thick blob that she had taken from the top choked her slightly, filling her mouth. She couldn't chew it. She almost laughed at herself slightly, choking as she finished the bite but enjoying the sweet, sugary taste for the whole experience.

Staring up at Roark, Gardenia looked doubtful of his conclusion, but still didn't answer, digging her spoon into the whipped cream, carving out a creamy sliver of the side.

Over his shoulder, Roark gazed at Gardenia, waiting for response, watching her struggle to eat the second bite of whipped cream. As he had stared long enough, he watched as Gardenia covered her mouth with one hand, then offered the spoon to him. Roark hesitated, looking up at her almost knowingly, then took the spoon from her, feeling the slight warmth in the metal from her grip. He swiveled around on the stool, raising himself slightly and then sitting forward. Out of the side, he carved a small chunk of the whipped cream with his spoon, then placed it in his mouth.

"Do you really think I'm so judgmental?" asked Gardenia, her voice muffled by the hand that covered it. She gazed expectantly, not in aggravation or a sense of misgiving, but plain curiosity. Her jaw massaged the lump of whipped cream in her mouth softly as she waited.

Roark swallowed his spoonful of whipped cream with ease, almost wincing at the speed he had done it, not letting the taste linger on his tongue. He set the spoon on the napkin, gazing at it where he had faced the handle towards Gardenia, and then gazing up at her.

"I don't think you're thinking anything bad about Chuckie, or really anyone for that matter," Roark swallowed, clearing his throat of the sugary sweetness. "But I do think you're judgmental, or at least quick to judge—"

"Oh brother," Gardenia swallowed, laughing with the gasp of air that entered her throat. She gazed at where Roark had left the spoon and the drink alone, furrowing her brow at it.

"I don't think it's a bad thing, either! That's all I was about to say," said Roark, filling in the space of his thought that Gardenia had just filled. With a raised eyebrow, he gave a hand wave for any of Gardenia's lingering thoughts, clearing his throat again as a slight nervous tick. "Really, I'll be a hundred percent honest, it's fine! Plenty of people judge at first sight, and it's not a bad thing at all. My dad… My mom… Have you ever heard Fantina talk? She regards everything as so binary, seriously. When we were—"

Gardenia cleared her throat louder than Roark could muster. She was still looking down to the spoon. After Roark had paused, waiting for her thought, Gardenia felt across the napkin. She twirled it between her fingers, letting the light catch where it could through the murky, cream-glazed surface, often holding it to the light and watching it reflect the searing sensation of that light on her eyes.

After coming to the conclusion that Gardenia wasn't actually going to continue, Roark, clearing his throat once again, took a deep inhale through his nostrils, reducing his need to rapidly justify himself at Gardenia's expense, sat forward, a little closer to her, clearing his eyes of any visible doubt.

"Gardenia, you don't have to believe me. I mean, yeah, I get it. There's a lot of bad connotation to something like 'judgment' of other people. It's not a popular trait, and I think plenty would say it's a terrible trait." Roark caught himself chuckling. He slicked his hair back, tilting his head back slightly to make sure his hair tucked behind his ears. After taking a moment to simply think and breathe, Roark returned, realizing he had caught Gardenia's attention, as she was staring up at him. "I'll be honest, it's really not something I have a whole lot of confidence saying about you. It's hard to say, but it's really the first thing that comes to my mind when I—when I hear you speak about other people… When I just look at you, you know? I… I just get this feeling, and the only word I can put to it is 'judgmental'… 'judgment'… And when I say those words—when I'm not thinking of you—they seem hollow and empty, and they fill my chest with a pit."

Gardenia had rested the tip of the spoon level with the bar surface. Her hand held the spoon aloft, a single finger pressed down that held the bare edge of the spoon's tip to the surface of the bar. She only watched it out of the corner of her eye and kept her middle finger pried slightly in case it fell. Her thumb rubbed the warm metal surface of it, feeling the smudgy fingerprints on the handle's edge. As she still let the words Roark said wheel in her head, she shifted her gaze to him, hearing him start his thoughts back up again.

"I don't get that hollow feeling when I put those words to you," said Roark. "I actually get this sort of… Warm feeling… It's not something I can put in words, actually… But it's like a kind of comfort thing. Like when you eat comfort food… Or when you first get home for the holidays… The first time you see a movie you haven't seen… In years… I can't explain…"

Roark cut himself off slightly. He was looking down at his feet, feeling his voice turn to a slight mumble. After a moment, tilted his head up, gazing at Gardenia's pockmarked knees that faced him. Then he looked up, gazing into Gardenia's honey-colored eyes.

"You can't explain any of that," said Roark. "You don't know what that feeling is, and you get it."

Wide-eyed, Gardenia's look of attention made her look slightly dumbstruck. Her lips were pursed tightly as if she was in-between avoiding saying something offensive and really unsure of what to say. Though Roark looked at her earnestly, Gardenia had her doubts and they showed through her eyes, but a slight spark of belief came through in the dark murky depths behind her eyes as she thought more. A warm and elated feeling rose in her chest, old memories trickling through her mind as she pulled up memories of what he described. Unconsciously, Gardenia gripped the spoon that she balanced on the bar surface, staring off past where Roark's eyes were.

"It's like an old friend. You trust it, the feeling, and you know it's good for you to be around," said Roark. "That's how I know your judgment is good. I trust it. I know you're right, and deep down there's a nugget of truth to it all… And… I know, you have your doubts. It's a crazy notion. I've been around you long enough to know what 'indecisiveness' truly means," Roark chuckled softly, gaze lost in a sea of memories. "But I know that when you decide, you've decided, and that's it. That's all that needs to be said. You won't decide anything without the proper thought. That's how I know."

A nervous smile crossed Gardenia's lips, and she chuckled with the same nervousness. She let the spoon fall into the palm of her hand, her eyes having shifted to it as she watched it twirl on the side like a slow, jerky ballerina. Her thumb caught it up, and she held it in her palms, the handle facing out between her fingers.

Spoon in hand, Gardenia held her hands together over lap and looked down at it. She picked it up towards the base of the spoon where it curved into the scoop, holding the handle out to Roark. Her eyes trailed from the spoon up to his eyes, where Gardenia met with a fairly serious look of confusion from Roark, who expected some kind of answer from her.

"You never told me you didn't like sweets," Gardenia smiled dryly. When Roark looked at her in confusion, she nodded to the beverage Chuckie had poured her, where the whipped cream had melted into the beverage in a white, swirling cloud.

Roark opened his mouth to respond, choking on air when he had no response.


	18. Closing Hours

"11:41 PM," Gardenia droned quietly. "We're going to close them out, aren't we?"

The bottle made a watery plunging noise, the long neck of the bottle parting from Roark's lip. Letting out a satisfied sigh, Roark gave a tired and incredibly satisfied smile, setting the beer bottle on the bar counter, missing the papery coaster behind him. His legs crossed out in front of him, his rear sagging on the edge of the leathery bar stool as he leaned his elbows on the bar counter. His hair had come tangled forward, spilling into his glasses slightly over his pale forehead, but he remained still and contemplative, a giddy smile on his lips.

Gardenia slouched on the bar. Resting neatly between her folded arms, Gardenia's head stared up out of her arms with a dreamy smile. Beside her arms were two identical whiskey glasses, drained completely of the beverage for awhile, the remaining cream already drying to the glass bottom. Beside the glasses was a half-empty beer bottle. Her eyes were locked on the clock overhead, parting the rows of alcoholic beverages that lined the top of the bar mirror.

"I certainly hope we do," said Roark, stifling a burp.

* * *

"So my uncle also has a place in Canalave, pretty close to my dad actually. He's got a place in Snowpoint too, but then he's also got a place up here. That's what—where—we're doing—going, tonight…"

For possibly the tenth time tonight, Roark stifled a burp mid-sentence. Tilting his head back, he talked towards Gardenia, looking to her over his shoulder. When he fumbled and felt his finger miss the zipper of his pants he looked down, fumbling with his puffy, numb-feeling hands as he undid the zipper. Once free, he adjusted his footing as he faced the tree. Something splattered against the leaves of a fern, a constant, steady stream.

Blinking several times, Roark continued.

"He's got this boat. It's kinda—of a—it's not a yacht, but it's definitely new. Not new to me, new to him—ack—and he's got a bit of living space on it."

Gardenia watched from a good several feet away, the left side of herself shadowed by tall trees, the moon catching on her right side. She blinked hard several times, staring up at the moon and ignoring Roark in some semblance of privacy. Closing her eyes slightly in her blinking fit, Gardenia enjoyed the sweet embrace of sleep, or at least a taste of it, before she rocked on her feet and opened her eyes, staring at Roark.

"So, my dad and I—we met up in Canalave, got up on my uncle's boat, and we pushed out up around the Sinnoh. I mean, and my dad and I just kinda watched as we passed the Sinnoh coast, upwards and through it. We got kinda close to Snowpoint too, but we didn't stop. Just had to avoid icebergs. And then we looped around to here. We—We landed up—there used to be a large port where the Battle Frontier—where they're putting it in. We parked there—took the long way, hiking through the—the friggin' jungle. And we get there, and he shows us this cabin. And this cabin, well, it's a real piece of shit. It's just this dingy, rickety—I mean, it's a piece of crap. I look at my dad, and I'm like, 'dad, this is a piece of crap'. He's all 'shut the heck up'… I didn't tell him it was a piece of crap, but I kinda rolled my eyes… And he said it was disrespectful… But we go inside this place, and, friggin', it—it's awesome, man. The whole thing just—I mean, you smell the damn thing and it smells like pine. Not like the little bathroom smelly guys, I'm talking like a pine tree. He's got this crazy art on the walls, and, like—he built this friggin' kitchen, with like, his bare hands. It's all custom, and he makes this crazy good food. He made these paninis, and they melt in your mouth… He made these wicked salads… Oh gosh… He made like a game room too—and it's like in this library too—he's got pool—like shooting balls pool—and, it's…"

Roark sighed. Gardenia ignored him as he fumbled with his zipper, cursing under his breath.

Blinking in exhaustion, the gears turned slowly in Gardenia's head. A dead stare bore out of her skull, the blood drained from her face as she felt how long she had been awake. A fuzzy feeling permeated her brain and bore through. She felt the cool night air on the bags beneath her eyes.

"It was the best… It was the best weekend I'd had with my dad… In ages… Years… We just… We do the gym leader thing, and we… We're always busy… You gotta feel that too, right?"

Something clicked in Gardenia's head. Closing her eyes, she felt the heat flush back into her cheeks, a bit of renewed energy sparking from her mind and into her limps. When she opened them, she felt her feet moving her forward a step at a time, several of her steps landing jerkily as she moved her tired legs, but she ignored the sharp pain in her heels and stared down at the ground, deciphering shadows and avoiding dips in the muddy ground.

"I mean… Heh, I'm not even sure why I told you that. Kind of a dumb story… Just… I didn't want you freaking out if the place looks like a total hole…"

It took several moments before Roark heard Gardenia approaching from behind him. The deep snort of air he was taking through his stuffed up nose ceased, and he turned, averting his gaze from the moon. He hadn't anticipated Gardenia getting this close and turned sharply, barely catching himself on the other foot as he stepped back. He stared deep into Gardenia's gleaming, moonlit eyes as she approached steadily, blinking slowly as he processed what was going on.

Seeing that Roark was about to say something, Gardenia's hands fumbled for and found the sides of Roark's head, grasping his cheeks with the intent of being soft, instead gripping him. Her hands fumbled around his head until she found herself gripping the back of his head for stability. In the moment of their startled, confused breathing, Gardenia leaned in, pressing her lips to Roark's silently. She let out a tired grunt, a weak attempt at calming Roark's nerves as she felt his nervous breathing on her.

Roark's lips found Gardenia's in a lazy movement, softly cupping to hers, finding them moments after hers had found his. When the kiss broke, he wasn't one hundred percent sure it had finished, and he stumbled back slightly. His ankle rolled, catching on a ravine as he stared at space, then collapsed onto his ass with a powerful thud, staring ahead with a blank stare of exhaustion.

"…"

* * *

A/N

Hi, Yugoslavia here.

As of 5/12/16, 'the worst' is going on-hiatus. I'm taking some time to put together some other projects.

I have more chapters to post to 'the worst' that just require a bit more work and love. I have every intent of wrapping up this story and bringing it to its end, but I do want to give the story a bit of a break. As always you can PM me with any questions/comments/concerns. If you want to help out you can always leave a review/criticism of my story, letting me know if there's something you liked or something that I messed up on.

Have a great day!


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